“Thank you.”
Their fingertips met, and damn, if she didn’t feel that same spark again. Sitting this way brought him closer to eye-level, and when Lexi’s gaze found his, she knew he’d felt their connection, too.
“You’re welcome.” She swallowed hard before returning her focus back on the task at hand. If she didn’t, it would be midnight before they ever ate.
After taking a sip of her own, Lexi put her wine down and began gathering everything she needed for what she had planned.
“I already know you like red meat,” she stated, pulling out two steaks wrapped in butcher paper. “But do you like rice?”
“Rice is fine.”
She bent down and opened one of the vegetable drawers. “What about salads?” She looked back over her shoulder, and Trevor’s eyes shot to hers. Lexi schooled her expression, but inside she was grinning from ear to ear.
He was totally checking you out.
Clearing his throat, Trevor said, “I’ve been known to eat a salad or two.” With his wine glass in his hand, he stood from the stool and walked over to where she was setting the food out on the counter. “But, I don’t want you going to any trouble for me, angel. Honestly, I’m good with hitting a drive-thru or something.”
“Well, I’m not.” She began chopping the lettuce. “Not tonight.”
“You’ve been working here all day, Lex.”
She shrugged it off. “This is different.”
“How?”
She stopped chopping and faced him with a smile. “For me, cooking like this is...cathartic.”
“Cathartic?”
“Yeah. I don’t know; I guess it gives me time to think. It’s relaxing.”
Lexi scooped the lettuce up from the wooden chopping board and placed it in a large bowl. She then wiped the board down and reached for the steak. She expertly trimmed the fat from its edges, then began slicing the meat into thin, bite-size pieces.
“So, what do you think about when you cook?”
She smiled. “My mom, mostly.”
“How long has she been gone?”
Her head whipped up in surprise. “How did you know?”
“The tone of your voice.” The corner of his mouth rose slightly. “That and the way your eyes looked when you said the word ‘mom’.”
Lexi stared at him for a moment. “You see a lot, don’t you?”
“Another occupational hazard.”
Firing up two gas burners, she set a pot of water to boil for the rice on one, and a large, cast-iron skillet on another. After quickly seasoning the meat, she placed it in the heated pan with a drizzle of olive oil.
“My mom died almost two years ago. Breast cancer.”
“Damn, Lex. I’m sorry.”
She focused on the sizzling meat. “Thanks. I won’t lie; it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. But I’m okay, now.”
Most days, anyway.
“Still, losing a parent has to be rough. What about your dad?”
