“I appreciate the effort,” Nick said. “And if it means anything, it smelled incredible when I walked in the door.”
Guilt clawed at her. She was being ridiculous. A poser! For someone who always prided herself on keeping it real, she was acting like a Julia Child imposter.
“There was no effort,” she blurted out.
“C’mon, that’s not true. Seafood paella is a tough dish to make.”
She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t cook. This came from L’etoile.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me,” he said, a burst of laughter coming from deep inside of him. It was full-throated and seemed to go on and on. “Why did you pretend you’d made it?”
She shifted from one foot to the other. “I offered to make you a home-cooked meal, so I was trying not to backtrack on that promise,” she said feebly. “Plus, it’s pretty lame that I’m useless in the kitchen. This is so humiliating. The truth is I can’t cook, Nick. Like, not at all. I’ve even had trouble making boiled eggs,” she confessed. She threw her hands up in the air.
“I like to eat, Harlow. That doesn’t mean it has to be homemade. I can’t believe you went to all this trouble,” he said.
She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms across her chest. “What can I say? I’m a dork,” Harlow said sheepishly. Now that Nick was saying it out loud Harlow was able to see how foolish it all was.
“So why did you ask me to dinner at your place?” He let out a loud laugh. “We could have just eaten at the Lobster Shack. They make great seafood paella.” Nick covered his mouth as his shoulders shook with laughter.
“You’re never going to let me live this down are you?” Harlow asked, letting out a groan and covering her face.
She felt Nick’s hands on her wrists drawing her hands away from her face.
“Harlow, I’m just teasing. I couldn’t care less about home-cooked or takeout. But we do have a problem.” He let go of her hands and rubbed his stomach. “I’m pretty hungry. What do you have in your fridge?”
“Let’s take a look,” Harlow said, pulling it open and peering inside with Nick by her shoulder.
“Okay, I can work with this,” Nick said, reaching in and pulling out some items, then heading toward the pantry for spices and onions and a few other items. Harlow watched in amazement as Nick pulled out bowls from the cupboard and then mixed ingredients together.
“You can cook!” Harlow said. She couldn’t take her eyes off Nick’s arms. He’d rolled up his sleeves to sauté vegetables, which gave her a bird’s-eye view of his muscles. Not to mention his rugged physique and nicely shaped butt. Search and rescue sure did a body good! How lucky was she to be on the sidelines for this incredible view?
“I can,” Nick said, turning toward her and grinning. “I’m a dad. It would be pretty pathetic if I couldn’t nourish my child. No offense.”
“None taken,” Harlow said. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here taking notes. You could have a nice side hustle giving cooking lessons.”
“Why, thank you,” he said. “Cooking is something I’ve come to love. It can be exciting and unpredictable. Like right now, taking something from your fridge and transforming it into something delicious we can enjoy.”
Harlow looked over at the pans on the stovetop. “Mmm. It smells amazing.”
“Not bad, huh?” Nick asked, a satisfied smile etched on his face. “It’s almost done. Can you grab some plates for us? And those rolls should be heated up in the toaster oven.”
Thankfully she hadn’t burned the rolls and she’d picked up a big Greek salad and dessert.
They ended up sitting on pillows on her living room floor and putting the food and their plates on the glass coffee table. Nick had whipped up a delicious stir-fried rice with vegetables using leftover white rice and other ingredients from her kitchen.
Harlow was impressed. Nick had taken her kitchen fiasco and turned it upside down.
“Thanks for rescuing me yet again,” Harlow said. “That meal was on point.”
“It was my pleasure. And this rescue was way less dramatic than the first one, although it did involve fire, which is pretty hair-raising.” Nick wiggled his eyebrows.
“Good thing you’re in search and rescue.” Harlow clutched her stomach as she burst into chuckles. At least they could laugh about the fiery seafood paella incident. “I’ve always known that my cooking was bad, but I never thought I’d almost set my house on fire,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m constantly surprising myself,” she said as she got to her feet and began collecting the dirty dishes.
“Let me help you,” Nick offered, standing up. Harlow waved him off.
“Absolutely not. You’re my guest. I feel bad enough that you had to put your chef’s hat on and cook for us,” Harlow said as she headed off toward the kitchen. After placing the dishes and utensils in the dishwasher, Harlow pulled out the box of cream puffs she’d ordered from Wicked Eats, the bakery Stella had recommended. She grabbed two small plates and headed back into the living room.
As soon as Harlow entered the room she held up the box from the bakery and said, “I come bearing sweets.” Nick was sitting with his back against the sofa, his legs crossed in front of him. She loved the fact that he was making himself at home.
