She hadn’t expressed her gratitude then. No, she’d woken him abruptly and kicked him out of her bed.Women.
God, they confused him.
Dressed and back in the kitchen, Nolan grabbed another beer. The scent of tomatoes and rich gravy filled the air, a hint of garlic and basil.
“I’ll serve dinner,” his father said, pulling a casserole dish out of the oven.
“Thanks for cooking,” Nolan said.
“I enjoy it,” his father said, surprising Nolan.
“You do?”
“Your mother would never let me in the kitchen. I thought about training to be a chef rather than following my father’s footsteps. My father had very firm ideas about the roles of men and women.”
“Yeah?” Nolan passed his father the warmed dinner plates. Since his father had moved out of the family home, they’d become closer. His father had bloomed—for want of a better word—since he’d split from Elizabeth. “Where did you get this recipe?”
“Looked it up on the net,” his father said as he dished up the mashed potato, boiled peas and some sort of casserole. “I like trying new things.”
Sure as hell beat coming in late and cooking for himself. “Are you going to try to make up with Mum?”
“It’s too late. I hate the way she drove Tyler away. I share the blame because I didn’t stand up to her. I’ll have to deal with the guilt for the rest of my life.”
“How are things with you and Tyler?”
“He’s wary, and I don’t blame him. Josie told me once the farm is sold all of them are moving to Auckland.”
“Tyler always preferred art to farming.”
“He takes after his mother,” his father said. “She had a passion for art.”
Cooking was a form of art, no matter what his father said. “You could always go up to Auckland for a holiday. There’s nothing to stop you visiting Tyler.” Nolan’s phone beeped to indicate an incoming message. He ignored it and continued working on his pile of mashed potato. “This is really good.”
“It’s a small way to pay back your support, son.” Samuel ate some of his own meal. “I don’t mind taking responsibility for the cooking and shopping. Beats tromping through the mud with my gammy leg.”
Nolan’s phone beeped again.
“Do you need to get that?”
“Later,” Nolan said. “I’ll help with the dishes.”
His father beamed. “I made apple crumble.”
It was almost two hours later when Nolan retired to his bedroom and set the alarm. His phone beeped and he plucked it from his pocket, hitting a button to illuminate the screen. Yvonne had sent him a text. Several texts.
R u ignoring my txts?
He scrolled down, his eyes widening when he read the other two texts and studied the attached photos. The first one showed a bright blue vibrator and something that looked like a butt plug. There were a couple of other items in the photo, which were difficult to identify. The message said,My sex toys arrived. We need to make a d8 2 try out.
Nolan scowled at his screen. So she could thank him again in that oh-so-polite tone. His hand fisted around his phone, and he had to force himself to unclench his fingers and check the next message.
Sat night, around 8?The attached photo showed deep cleavage, and immediately his cock went to half alert.
The woman was trying to kill him.
She’d changed, and he had no idea what to make of the sultry beauty who’d taken her place.
Nolan cleaned his teeth and shucked his clothes in preparation for bed. He turned his head to stare at his phone where he’d left it on the bedside cabinet.Ring her.Without a second thought, he picked up his cell and hit speed dial. Yvonne answered almost immediately.
