That’s how you impress a woman—canned soup.
Kenzie stood and walked to his fridge. “I got you shrimp, pasta, and stuff to make marinara sauce.”
“You did?”
“Didn’t you look?” She opened the freezer door and pulled out a bag of cooked, frozen shrimp. “If you haven’t used the crushed tomatoes and the pasta, we should be good. I’ll need an onion and some garlic, too.”
He turned back to the pantry, found the crushed tomatoes and the pasta.
She set the frozen shrimp down on the kitchen counter, then walked back to the fridge. “Put those in a colander and run cold water over them, and I’ll start the sauce.”
Instead of doing what she asked, he stood there like an idiot, watching while she bent over and searched the vegetable crispers for the other ingredients. No, he wasn’t watchingher. He was watching herass.
Way to make your mama proud, man.
He tore his gaze off her, set the pasta and tomatoes on the counter, and went in search of a colander, looking through Mrs. Beech’s cupboards. Pots and pans. Mixing bowls. Glassware. “How many pie plates does one person need?”
“Maybe Mrs. Beech—” Kenzie’s Team pager went off. “Damn.”
She drew it out of her pocket, scrolled through the message. “Sorry, but I have to go. You can thaw the shrimp under cold water, pat them dry, and sauté them in butter and garlic. Then just sauté the onion, and—”
“I’ll go with you.”
She stared up at him, clearly surprised. “Other Team members will be there, probably Scarlet Fire and the sheriff’s department, too. Are you sure you’re up for meeting everyone?”
He wasn’t, not really, but he couldn’t stay cooped up in this house forever. Besides, he didn’t want to say goodbye to her—not yet. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay. You can put Gabby’s crate in the back of my vehicle. I have to stop by the kennel to pick up Gizmo, and I need to put on some warmer clothes.”
“Same here.” Jeans wouldn’t cut it on a cold-weather rescue that might go on all night. “How about I meet you at your place in ten?”
“That sounds good.” She pulled her coat out of the closet, grabbed her handbag, found her keys. “I’ll see you there.”
The moment she was gone, Conrad stripped out of his jeans and sweater and got into a pair of long underwear and some old summit pants. If they were good enough for the Himalayas, they could handle whatever the Rockies threw his way. He slipped into a T-shirt and a wool sweater and zipped himself into a down-filled summit jacket. Then he went for his Team gear.
It had been almost a year and a half since he’d touched his Team backpack. He had always kept it ready to go so that he wouldn’t have to wonder what was in it before each rescue. He didn’t have time to unpack it and check his gear now. He wasn’t really on the Team anyway. He was just going to support Kenzie.
You just want to be close to her.
Was that such a bad thing?
When he’d loaded his gear into his SUV, he put Gabby inside her crate, settling her with treats and kibble. “You ready to go on an adventure, kid?”
Gabby curled up, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
“That’s how you have enough energy to keep me awake at night.”
He shut the liftgate, climbed into the driver’s seat, and drove to Kenzie’s house— a modest two-story Victorian with a wrap-around porch. No sooner had he parked, then she stepped out of the front door, wearing ski pants and a blue down parka, a backpack on her back, Gizmo leashed and following at her heel.
Conrad got out of his vehicle and greeted Gizmo, whodidremember him, judging from the whimpers, licks, and wagging tail. “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you, too.”
“I told you he’d remember you,” Kenzie stopped at her tailgate. “Let’s put Gabby in the back of my truck. It will be easier than moving all my stuff over to your vehicle.”
Conrad moved Gabby, together with his own gear, then climbed into the passenger seat. “Are we sure it’s okay for Gabby to be with Gizmo back there?”
Kenzie took the wheel. “They’re in separate crates, so it should be fine.”
“Where are we headed?”
