“Really? Because there are tons of unflattering photos of you. Especially this one juxtaposing you with Brody.”
Matt scowled at the woodsman. He was shirtless and flambéing bananas.
“Wow,” I said appreciatively as he poured cognac in the pan and set it on fire. “He really knows how to work a skillet.”
“That is unsanitary.”
“But he’s oh so hot.”
Matt took off his jacket.
“Are you going shirtless too?” I teased, though a part of me was thinking,Yes, please. The last time Matt had been shirtless, I hadn’t had the time to fully appreciate it.
And you don’t have time now. Think about the bake-off. Think about all your debt!
Matt undid his tie, and I drooled a little. Then he unfastened his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves, and I almost came in my pants.
Heaven!
And on the left, we see our most recent art piece in our collection,The Low Standards of Merrie Ellis.
Matt picked up a knife and started hacking at my perfect pears.
“No!” I howled and handed him a mandolin. “Use that.”
I started my cranberry sauce and then scooped out the pomegranates’ ruby red seeds into a bowl.
“How are those pears coming?” I asked Matt, stepping over to inspect the slices.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed as he sliced a pear, hand bare, not wearing the steel mesh glove I had laid out on the table.
Matt jumped slightly, and his finger came in contact with the blade.
“Shit. This is your fault.”
“You’re supposed to use a glove.” I grabbed his hand and the mandolin and led him over to the sink, where I ran cold water over the cut, inspecting it to see whether his finger was even still there.
“I’m fine,” Matt said.
I grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and carefully applied pain ointment then wrapped his finger in bandages and plastic wrap.
“Okay, you’re all patched up. I’ll grab a new mandolin, and you can finish up.”
“Finish up?” Matt scoffed. “I’m injured; I can’t work.”
“Um, yes, you literally can. Put on your big boy pants”.
Matt untwisted the top off a bottle of cognac I had out for one of my jelly rolls. He poured some in one of my measuring cups and took a swig.
“I have to convalesce and heal.”
I glowered at him.
He pointed at the counter with the measuring cup. “You better get going on those oranges. They’re not going to slice themselves.”
27
Matt
