“I could hunt if I wanted,” Princess Buttercup says, sliding around my calves.
I fight down a laugh. My cat’s never hunted a day in her life and just spent a half hour kneading her new kitchen cat bed like the little diva she is.
“But what you’re doing smells good. Not chicken good, but good.” Pleading amber eyes look up at me, brimming with hope, so I slice up a few strips of beef for her and dry fry them while the stew simmers.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she says as I make up a little bowl for her, her purr filling the kitchen.
Luke looks startled. “Is she supposed to sound like that?”
“She’s happy.” I chuckle. “She’s a good purrer no matter what, but she’s especially loud for food.”
“Of course I am! Food is thebest!” she says emphatically, as if anything else is nonsense. She descends on the beef, gobbling it down in less than a minute, purring the entire time.
Soon the kitchen smells of garlic and meat and all good things. Luke edges closer, leaning one hip against the counter as he watches my every move. A pleasant feeling hums through me. I cook all the time, but Luke’s appreciative stare adds a whole new level of anticipation and care to this meal. It’s really nice to cook for someone else.
We eat in the family dining room, gathered at one end of the table. I run a hand over its satiny finish. It’s a thick slab of wood, simple in style and cut to show off the beauty of the grain. “You didn’t replace this, did you? It looks like the onethat was here yesterday.”
“It is.” Luke presses his palm to the wood. “This table has been in our family for generations.”
“I thought so. It reminds me of the table in the town library.” Heavy and solid, yet beautiful with clean lines.
I look down and swirl my spoon in my stew, sneaking peeks at Luke through my lashes, waiting to see him take the first bite. He goes right for a chunk of beef and makes a pleased noise, his handsome face lit by surprise.
I can’t help but smile, happy he likes it. My first sip of the broth is full of herbs and salt and the yummy umami flavor searing the beef adds.
Luke has three helpings. We sop up the liquid with buttered hunks of homemade sourdough bread and finish off the rest of the merlot I used for the base of the soup.
I serve my chocolate chip cookies for dessert and watch five disappear from the plate in quick succession.
Luke finally catches me watching and sets a sixth cookie back down. “Apologies. I got carried away by the novel flavors.”
“Please.” I slide the plate toward him. “You don’t know how happy it makes me that you like my cooking.”
“If you’re certain.” He frowns, but it’s one of the minor frowns—maybe grumpy number two, which I’m calling his thinking frown—nothing serious.
I take a second cookie for myself and wave at the rest of the plate. “Go for it. It’s the least I can do after everything you did to get the castle ready for me.” I still can’t believe he got it all done in one night, even with magic.
“It’s important that we be ablework efficiently.” This frown hits at least a number four, medium irritation, reminding me that we didn’t find anything helpful today andDance of Desirestill hangs in midair, ready to suck us back into the book at any moment.
“We’ll find something soon,” I say.
He cocks an eyebrow. “Do you also have the power of divination?”
“No.” I flutter a hand. “I said it as a nicety, a way to stay positive.” It’s what people expect of me.
“I have little use for platitudes. What we need are facts.”
“You’re right.” And he is. I got us into this mess. I need to get us out.
We dive back into the research the following morning, and the next several days blur into a familiar pattern, the one constant Luke and his library and books. So. Many. Books.
That’s why it takes me several moments to realize what’s happening when I look up from a book to find golden sparkles surrounding me.
From beside me, Luke growls.
Then we’re spinning and spinning, and the world goes away. We land right in the middle of the dance studio, which is empty of any other couples.
“Good, you’re here,” Miss Michelle says, stepping out of the back. “I’m so glad you two decided to add some private lessons to your schedule. The extra practice is the only wayyou’ll be able to do theDirty Dancingroutine for the dance competition.”
