My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s fancy.”
“I like experimenting.”
“So, you’ve never made this before,” I said hesitantly.
“Nope, but that’s the great thing about cooking. You get to experience new things every day.”
“I had no idea you liked to cook.”
“Well, I do,” she said, picking up a carrot and popping it in her mouth. “Plus, this has wine in it. What’s not to like about that?” She spun around and pulled down a wine glass. “Want some?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She poured herself a generous glass, then a second for me. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but I had to admit, sitting here with her while she cooked for me was appealing. I could see myself spending a lot of nights like this.
Nothing like this had ever happened with Bianca. She wasn’t much of a cook and preferred to go out to dinner instead of dirtying anything in the kitchen.
In fact, any time I suggested we cook something together, she turned up her nose at it. At the time, I assumed she just liked going out, but now I wondered if there was something more to it.
“Hey, everything okay over there?” Ellie asked, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
“Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I tried desperately to drag my mind out of that time of my life. There was nothing worse than dredging up the past and things you couldn’t change, but the longer I sat there, the more pissed off I became.
I swallowed the whole glass of wine in one go, then strode over to the counter and grabbed the bottle, pouring myself another glass.
“Ryder, is everything?—”
“It’s fine,” I snapped.
Setting the knife down, she turned to me, eyeing me carefully. “What the hell happened? In the span of two minutes, you got all pissed off, and I have no idea why.”
I shoved my fingers through my hair, gritting my teeth that I had to explain myself. “I was just thinking of Bianca.”
Her eyebrows shot up at that, and she picked up the knife, resuming her chopping.
“Well, it’s nice to know that you’re thinking of another woman while you’re with me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I snapped. God, this was all coming out wrong. “You were cooking, and it just reminded me that she never wanted to cook.”
“Okay,” Ellie said slowly.
“She always wanted to go out. And at first, I thought she just wanted to go on dates, but now…”
“Now what?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Why does this even matter? It’s over.”
“You’re the one who slammed back a glass of wine. I was simply cooking.”
“Yeah, and that’s the fucking problem,” I argued. “You were just cooking. Just doing this simple thing that’s so fucking sexy. Why do you have to do that?”
“Cook? Because I would like to stay alive long enough to reach the age of ninety, and call me crazy, but eating grass doesn’t sound very appealing!”
“No, I mean, why the hell does everything you do have to be so fucking sexy?”
She flinched back in shock.
I rounded the counter, stalking her like prey. “You’re cooking for me. Do you know how fucking sexy that is?”
