Maybe she was uncomfortable at the blurring of the lines, at letting her professional image slip. Well, the sooner she learned that wasn’t taken too seriously in Quandong the better. She just hoped Will wouldn’t make a terrible beef en vagina joke.
Luckily, although she was making a good job of hiding it, he seemed to sense Sophie’s discomfort and picked up the carving knife without further comment. “I hope you both like rare beef.” The first two slices fell, softly pink in the centre, encased in golden-brown pastry.
Tarryn was really glad there were no vagina jokes.
“I love it,” Sophie said. She accepted the plate Will passed, and when Garrett nudged the veggies in her direction, she took a generous portion.
When everyone had been served, Sophie lifted her glass. “Thank you for making me welcome. Here’s to the Gay Bells festival being a huge success.”
“We have the A-Team here. I’m sure it will be.” Garrett went to get Will’s luscious red wine and poured fresh glasses, then got a second beer for Tarryn.
“Make sure you do more than just work. There are plenty of people who’d be delighted to show you around.” Will kicked Tarryn’s ankle under the table, and when Sophie was looking the other way, he mouthed, “Like you!”
She glared at him, rubbed her ankle, then picked up her cutlery and began to eat.
“Honestly, you don’t need to babysit me. I have a ton of work to get through for this festival. I won’t have much time for socialising.” Sophie flashed a smile. “This will probably be the social highlight of my time here.”
Did she know what an appealing smile she had? Tarryn sliced a piece of the tender beef. Sophie was a mix of innocent ingenue and cool businesswoman—and that was intriguing. It was almost as if she didn’t know how to behave in either world.
“It can be work. After all, you need to know what to do around Quandong if you’re to promote it successfully. Don’t you have a term for experiencing something so you can promote it?” Tarryn turned to face Sophie. She told herself it was to see if she agreed with that, but a wiggle of delight suggested it was also to follow the graceful curve of Sophie’s neck up to the choppy bob, and the plump earlobe that peeked out from underneath, decorated by a plain gold stud and just begging to be bitten.
“You’re right; we do that sometimes. This beef is fantastic.” She flashed a smile at Will. “Can you give me the recipe?”
“I could—if I thought you were actually going to cook it and weren’t just being polite.”
“Why do you assume I can’t cook?” Sophie challenged.
“Because I have it on good authority the floor of your car is carpeted in junk food wrappers. And a friend works at Thai Dreams. Seems you’re quite the regular customer, especially given you’ve only spent four nights total in town.”
“Neither of those mean I can’t cook. Just that I’m busy.”
“True. If I give you the recipe, you’ll have to cook it one night for us. You can use my kitchen.”
“Okay, you’ve caught me out. I can cook, but I seldom have time. And beef en croute would be a stretch for me. But that doesn’t mean I won’t give something new a try.” She turned her head and stared Tarryn full in the face.
Tarryn’s breath stuttered in her throat. Was that an invitation? Surely not. There had been nothing from Sophie to indicate that so far. Yes, she was gay, yes, she didn’t have a partner, but no, she wasn’t flirting.
Not yet.
But maybe. Soon.
And once again, she’d deflected the conversation away from something personal to a neutral subject.
“What are you wanting to try?” she asked. For a heated second, possible sexual firsts flashed through her mind.
“I’d love to meet your alpacas. You said one of them was called Allie—the same as my sister.”
“They are adorable,” Will said. “But watch out for Ally. She can be a bit feisty. Has been known to nip as well as spit.”
“Just like my sister.” Sophie cut a potato into bite-sized pieces.
The mental picture of Sophie trying something new bloomed to a feature movie. “Remember that thought when she spits stomach contents on your shirt.”
“Does she do that often?” Sophie asked.
“Slightly more often than Tarryn does,” Garrett said. “More red wine, Soph?”
“Please.” She held out her glass for Garrett to fill.
