He didn’t turn. There was an ache in my calves from all the running around today, a line of tightness up my right shoulder. Tony and I had played hard at the dog park this morning, andthen the fast pack up of my things, and now here we were. I was beat.I chuckled under my breath at the absurdity of just how much had changed within a few days and then sat on the edge of a stool by the bar top counter, watching Lachlan from the side.
He paused, set the spoon down, and finally looked over.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Pretty sure I’m always hungry,” I joked, but then I realized he was the one cooking and I had been in the shower. He could poison me, chop me up into little pieces, and disappear me on his land somewhere. But then again, as of now I was a key part in this plan not falling to pieces, so I doubted that was the case, but ever since my situation with Doug, I’d been hesitant to eat anything other than what I would make for myself.
He chuckled lightly with a nod, then reached into the cabinet for a white bowl. He ladled soup into it—thick, off-white, flecked with something green and something pink. He set it in front of me, slid a spoon next to it, and went back to the stove. I glared at it, apprehension screwing through me. I glanced up and Lachlan was watching me, so I focused back on the soup.
“Really? You think I’m going to kill you after you told the police we’re dating and we publicly showed them that you moved into my house today?” he scoffed. When he put it like that, repeating my thoughts aloud to me, he would be really stupid to try and kill me now, but old habits died hard. Even fast food and restaurants gave me anxiety now. It was exhausting.
Lachlan noted my hesitation, walked over, and scooped a big helping from my bowl. He was so close, and the man smelled divine too. He took a bite, and the low hum in his chest made my throat dry as he looked up at me from the other side of the bar, leaning so close he was only inches away from my face, and nodded toward the soup for me to eat now that he had proven it wasn’t laced with my death. For good measure, Lachlan wentover to the pot and took a bite straight from there too, sending me a grin over his shoulder.
The soup was hot. I blew on it, watching a film of oil ripple on top. I took a sip. The flavor was smoky and sweet and a little sharp, like onions and milk and something briny underneath. It was good and hearty. And it had potatoes, and oh my god I was a ho for potatoes in anything. This was better than anything I’d eaten all week. If I was being honest, probably longer. I hated cooking almost as much as dishes, but after I was poisoned, it was worth the hassle. I’d be the first to admit, however, I had never been the best cook. Dino nuggies and mac and cheese were my regular go-tos for fast meals.
Lachlan didn’t say anything else. He stood at the counter, leaning back against it, holding his bowl, looking out the window above the sink. It was too dark outside to really see anything. Just a black pane reflecting the lights in the kitchen and the vague, ghostly shape of both of us: him in the foreground, me perched behind on the stool. When he realized I was looking, too, he gave me a smile in our reflection. Did he want to watch my reaction when I tried his food? Or was he as filled with tension as I was by his presence?
I reached for the loaf of bread on the cutting board on the bar that had been hacked into uneven hunks. I pinched off the smallest piece and chewed. The crust left scratches on the roof of my mouth, but dipped in the soup it was really good. The air between us grew dense.
He glanced back. His eyes flicked over me and away. “You want more?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m good.” My stomach dipped at his attention on me.
He scraped his own bowl with the spoon, slurping the last mouthful. “You ever had Cullen Skink before?” he asked.
I made a face. “Is that what this is called?”
He shrugged. “It’s a Scottish thing. My mother used to make it.” He rinsed the bowl in the sink and left it there.
“It’s good,” I praised. “Like, really good.”
He didn’t answer, just started wiping down the counter, and I watched him work. He grabbed my bowl and put it in the sink. His hands were broad, knuckles scraped and calloused, like he’d worked every day of his entire life outside. And something about that kicked up my heart rate. Watching the way his back muscles flexed beneath his shirt as he scrubbed, knowing he’d been working with his hands all day, made absolutely filthy thoughts fill my head. This man was every woman’s wet dream. He did all the big-boy chores and had cooked me dinner. I cleared my throat, shaking the thought out.
“Thanks,” I said, breaking the silence. “For dinner. For letting me—for letting me stay.”
Lachlan blinked once slowly. “I told you, it’s not a problem. Hopefully we’ll get through this and it’ll be over before we know it.”
“I know, but still. Not everyone would. The situation were in is kinda crazy.”
A thump echoed from the hallway. Tony tore through at full speed, paws scrabbling on the wood. He was a streak of dark brown fur. almost invisible until he skidded sideways and nearly crashed into my bar stool. He made a high, wet snort and then moved to leap onto the couch.
I heard Lachlan behind me. “Aye!” he yelled.
Tony paused, but then he walked around the couch toward the recliner that sat across from it, spun in a tight circle, then reared back and hiked his leg.
A spurt of piss splattered against the chair.
“Aye, you little fucker!” Lachlan barked, suddenly rushing past me. “Not my chair!”
Tony barked back and galloped out of the room.
I pressed both hands to my mouth, trying not to laugh.
Lachlan glared at me, face scrunched and red. The vein in his forehead popping. “It’s not funny!” He pointed at the spreading stain. “You’re both little terrors, aren’t you?”
I wiped my eyes. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll clean it, I swear. Go shower or something. I’ll get to it.”
Lachlan looked at me, then at his shirt that had food stains on it from cooking and doing the dishes, then at the mess. He sighed. “Fine. Just . . . keep him out of the house until I’m done.”
