“I won’t. Why, you think I’ll cut myself just because I’m an omega?” I teased.
He quirked a brow. “No. It’s ‘cause you look like you’ve never stepped foot in a kitchen in your life.”
“I’ll have you know that I know my way around a knife, thank you very much.” I ran the wild plants under the sink and watched the dirt flow away. “I used to make little wood carvings for fun.”
“No way,” Ramsay said, sounding genuinely interested. “Will you make me one?”
“Sure.”
He poked his tongue out teasingly. “It’d make a cute gift for a mating ceremony, huh?”
Despite his joking, my chest grew warm again. “Keep this up and it just might.”
When I finished rinsing the greens, I brought them over to the counter to stand next to Ramsay.
“So, uh, what are any of these?” I asked, laying them out on the cutting board.
Ramsay took a single quick glance at the lineup, then returned his attention back to the meat. “From left to right, you got your wild garlic, wild mustard greens, dandelion, wood sorrel for that zesty kick, and I’m sure you know those little brown suckers on the end are mushrooms.”
“What?” I squeaked. “How do you know all that? You barely looked at them!”
“I don’t have to look for long,” Ramsay replied with a grin. “I already know what they are.”
“What are you, some kind of botanist?”
“Nope. Just a guy who's been eating wild plants his whole life.” He stepped back from his slab of meat, satisfied. He grabbed the mushrooms, whole, and tossed them in the stainless steel pan around the meat. “Now cut those up so we can add that flavor.”
“All right, just give me a--”
And of course, the paring knife slipped.
“Ow!”
I hissed and stepped back from the counter. The knife clattered to the floor. Bright red blood beaded at the tip of my finger.
The next thing I knew, Ramsay had grabbed me and taken my hand gently in his own, staring down at it with a furrowed brow. He clicked his tongue.
“Oh no,” he sighed.
From under the counter he pulled some alcohol and a cotton ball. Within seconds he had the wound cleaned and bandaged.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“What are you sorry for?” I asked, feeling guilty. “I should be sorry for being an idiot.”
“No, Mathe. I should’ve given you a duller blade.”
I blushed at his use of a nickname. “It’s okay. It was just an accident. I just feel bad for ruining all those plants you went through the trouble of picking.”
“Ah, they’re practically weeds,” Ramsay said with a hint of a smile. He opened the window and tossed the rest of them outside. “At least we still have meat and mushrooms.”
I sighed, still feeling bad that I ruined Ramsay’s plan by being so clumsy. Would he even want to be with someone like me now; who told him I was great with knives and then went and immediately cut himself with one?
“Maybe I should go sit over there on the couch,” I mumbled.
“Sure. I’ll be with you in just a sec,” Ramsay told me. He tossed the pan into the oven.
I shuffled over to the living room and sat, staring at my hand. It was a tiny mistake, just a simple accident that anyone could have made, but it just made me acutely aware of just howfragileI was. Was I really fit to be a chosen one? I never asked to be the focal point of a prophecy, or to bear this huge responsibility.
