I can’t help but lift my chin and close my eyes, taking in the scent that reminds me of the weekends I would wake up to a gourmet breakfast cooked by my mother.
As a single, working mother, she didn’t have much time during the week. She was busy raising a teenage daughter and trying to work enough to support us. She balanced it well by working as much as possible during the week so the weekends could be dedicated time for us to spend together. And it always started with a hearty breakfast and puzzles in the morning.
It was a routine that stuck with me, even after she passed. But my cooking skills, no matter how hard I try, are nothing compared to the delicious meals she made.
She made scrambled eggs look sexy.
I’m lucky if I don’t accidentally burn my cereal.
“Oh my god, it smells delicious.” I round the kitchen island to the stove and peer into the skillet.
Grilled butternut squash, kale, asparagus, zucchini, and onions are resting in a large oversized skillet, sautéed to perfection. There’s a large pan full of scrambled eggs and a plate sits on the side of the stove with perfectly crisped bacon cooling next to a bowl with a towel draped over it.
Nosily, I tilt my head as I pinch the corner of the towel and lift it. “Homemade biscuits?” I practically squeal.
“Did you make these?” I look over at Wade to find him blushing.
He nods with a tight expression but there’s a flash of pride behind his eyes.
“You cook?” I ask, kicking myself because I should have asked him a more open ended question if I’m ever going to get him to talk. So, I’m shocked that he answers me with words.
“Yeah, we all do. It was my turn to make breakfast today.” His tone is stern, but not quite as harsh as earlier. “Except Jasper, he hardly cooks anything, and if he does, no one really wants to eat it.” There is a slight roll of his eyes and now he just sounds annoyed.
“Oh, you like it, you control freak,” Jasper chimes in as he sets the table. “I donate the food, you cook it. Plus, you hate eating other people’s food.”
“You only donate it because your parents have a farm,” Wade insinuates.
“It’s still my food.”
“Not food you pay for.”
“Neither do you.”
“Enough,” Major interrupts, as his eyes bounce between the two of them and they quiet down immediately.
This seems to be an ongoing and very regular event between the two of them.
I peek over at Jasper as he throws a grape up in the air then catches it in his mouth. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by thebanter at all as he turns and gives me a beaming, gorgeous smile that I contagiously mirror back.
When I glance over at Wade, he’s watching Jasper annoyed, but with an added expression I can’t read.
Silence deafens the room and the awkwardness feels thick. Maybe because I’m here, or maybe because it’s just normal between these two, but I usually talk into a phone screen with no response so I’m used to creating conversation with less than this.
“So, what kind of produce does your family grow?” I ask Jasper.
“We grow everything, it just depends on the season. In the summer we’re known for our tomatoes. Oh, and our strawberries and blueberries are very popular,” Jasper adds.
“Mmmm Hmmm,” Major moans as if he took a bite of food, but when I glance his way he’s just humming in memory of said berries.
“Yeah, those are his favorite.” Jasper chuckles. “But fall is a huge season for us. We grow everything, from the leafy greens to beets and potatoes. Oh, and my personal favorite, pumpkins.” He winks at me.
My cheeks flush as I bite my lip because his flirtation is over the top killing me in the best way.
“And all the food that Wade cooked is from your farm?” I ask, impressed.
Jasper walks over to the kitchen to double check everything Wade cooked and nods. “Yup, everything except the bacon and some of the ingredients he made the biscuits with.”
“I’m so excited to try it,” I say as I walk over to where Major is standing. “Thank you for inviting me to stay.”
