“Locked away in their suites.” She patted Kensington’s cheek. “But your man’s in the kitchen. Is making a mess. But he is so handsome Jackie doesn’t mind.”
Kensington hurried that direction, intent of saving Jackie, the cook, from her new husband. She could only imagine what charms Nash was using to work his way into the staff’s good graces. The gentle whir-whir of a stand mixer filled the air as she crossed through the formal dining room. Jackie’s laughter was louder than the machine. The cook was always louder than necessary, probably from years of working around blenders and mixers and grinders.
Kenzi entered to find Nash wearing a green-and-red-striped apron and holding a cookie sheet with a hot pad. “What’s all this?” she asked.
Nash ducked his head. “A treat.”
“He’s making cookies.” Jackie, a woman who was thick around the middle and put on a smile like it was part of her uniform, beamed up at him like he was her long-lost son.
“It’s nothing, really,” Nash insisted.
Jackie jabbed him with her bony elbow. “Tell her what you told me about your mama.”
Nash kept his chin tucked as he removed the cookies from the cookie sheet with a plastic spatula. They were chocolate chip cookies, nothing special. They looked like every other batch of cookies that had come from the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip bag. Jackie was being overly generous with her adoration of this guy’s efforts.
“You know how, after a funeral, people take food to the family?”
“They do?” Kensington hadn’t heard of that before. “We usually send flowers.”
“Yeah, we did that too. But in our neighborhood, we would deliver homemade meals. Maybe a casserole they could keep in the fridge for a couple days and reheat or a lasagna they could freeze. I remember my mom taking fried chicken a couple times.”
He waved his hand as if brushing aside a memory. Kensington wished he hadn’t. The image of a neighborhood coming together to help one of their own was a pleasant thought. To her knowledge, nothing like that happened within her gated community. What would the Hollywood producer think of her showing up on his doorstep with a casserole? Or the ex-governor? “I can’t see that happening here.”
He twisted his lips in a half grin, and her stomach fluttered at the sight. He really was a handsome man—taking time to shave each morning and hair shorn close to his scalp had to require a trip to the barber every three weeks to maintain. Maybe now that he was married and settled into a job for a year, he would let it grow out. She didn’t love that idea. His military crispness gave him a daring edge.
“Anyway …” His voice broke through her errant thoughts. “My mom always made a batch of cookies too. She said it was a small reminder that life would be sweet once again.”
Kensington slouched against the countertop. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something like this for her family. “And so you made us cookies?”
“I made them foryou.” His soft emphasis on the last word did funny things to her insides. Her body went all warm and tingly.
“That’s random.”
He swallowed, and she could see the strain it took for him to maintain his smile.
“I meant that in a good way,” she hurried to reassure him. “I don’t see a lot of random kindness in my days.”
The pinch left the corners of his eyes, and a flush went over her chest.
Jackie cleared her throat, making Kenzi start. Coming to herself, she stood up straight and reached for a warm cookie.
“Careful, the chocolate may still be hot,” cautioned the cook.
“I’ll take my chances.” She broke off a bite and blew on the chips that oozed onto her fingers. Messy. Perfect in all the right ways. The first bite was pure deliciousness. After that, the rest of the cookie disappeared quickly, right along with all her judgments over Jackie for fawning over Nash.
“Coffee,” mumbled Lunette as she stumbled into the kitchen. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her bathrobe hung open to reveal a pair of black silk shorts and matching top. Her makeup was caked beneath her eyes, and she had pillow creases across her cheeks.
Kensington cringed, a dark cloud of insecurity and embarrassment obscuring the pleasant emotions Nash and his warm cookies created. The morning after was never a pretty sight for Lunette. If her father’s death by alcohol wasn’t enough to keep Kensington dry, then seeing her sister this morning would most definitely persuade her. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Shh, don’t talk yet.” Lunette took a long pull from the steaming mug of coffee Jackie thrust into her hands.
Jackie exchanged a look with Kenzi over Lunette’s shoulder that said she would feed her and get her sobered up. Well, as sober as Lunette would be over the next few days.
Kenzi mouthedthank youto Jackie and nudged Nash out of the kitchen. He quickly loaded a plate with as many cookies as he could pile on and followed her through the formal dining room.
“I’m sorry for her rudeness.”
“She’s had a rough night. Can’t say that I blame her.”
