“I’d rather stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re more interesting than my brothers.”
“I’m just making chili.”
“You’re making chili with passion. There’s a difference.”
She looks at me then, really looks at me, and for a moment, we just stand there watching each other.
Then Boone shouts from across the kitchen, “Jesse! How do you open these damn cans?”
“With a can opener,” I call back without taking my eyes off Callie.
“What’s a can opener?”
I sigh and push away from the counter. “Duty calls.”
“Jesse,” Callie says as I start to walk away.
“Yeah?”
“Try not to let him hurt himself.”
“No promises.”
By the time I get Boone sorted out with proper kitchen tools, both chili pots are simmering and the kitchen smells like heaven. Callie’s added her beans and is seasoning with the confidence of someone who knows what she’s doing.
Wyatt’s being more methodical, tasting and adjusting with scientific precision.
“How’s it going?” I ask, walking between their stations.
“Perfect,” they both say simultaneously, then glare at each other.
“Can’t both be perfect,” Wyatt points out.
“Mine can,” Callie says.
“We’ll see about that.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re all gathered around the tasting table with plastic spoons and high expectations.
Callie ladles out samples of her bean-filled creation, which, I have to admit, smells incredible.
“The Princess of Beans,” I announce, giving her a mock bow, “presents her royal creation.”
“That’s not my title,” she protests, but she’s fighting a smile.
“It is now.”
I take a bite of her chili, and damn. It’s good. Really good. The beans add texture and substance, and she’s balanced the spices perfectly.
“This is...” I start to say.
“Incredible,” Boone finishes, going back for another spoonful.
“Not bad,” Wyatt admits grudgingly.
