“Have a good rest,” I tell him as I hold the door open for Magnolia, and we both walk out into the hall.
I close the door quietly and stop abruptly when I realize Magnolia is standing close.
“He’s such a sweetheart. I’m so glad he’s doing better,”she whispers. She’s clutching her hands at her chest as she stares at the door.
I rest a hand on her shoulder. “You were amazing in there. He loves you. Thank you for sitting and talking with him so much.”
She nods and looks up at me with wide eyes as I gently nudge her farther down the hall.
“I know it’s a weird thing to think, but I enjoyed getting to visit with him. Both sets of my grandparents passed away when I was really young, so I haven’t had that in my life. And it’s nice.”
“Well, he’s claimed you now. I’m halfway scared that when he finds out we’re not actually engaged, he’ll decide to keep you instead of me,” I tease.
She smiles at that. “I’m very keepable.”
“Yes, you are,” I say quietly as she starts descending the stairs.
She didn’t hear my words, and I’m grateful for that.
I say a little louder, “Let’s go to the kitchen, and I’ll make an early lunch.”
“You cook?” Magnolia stares at me with her jaw open as she follows me into the big kitchen.
There’s a twelve-foot island in the middle that I use to hold the food I pull from the fridge. It’s freshly stocked, thanks to Eli, and I’ll be able to make something semi-decent for lunch.
“Believe it or not, men do like to eat too.”
She pokes my arm. “You know what I mean. Look at all these ingredients!” She gestures to the array of things I’ve pulled from the fridge.
“It’s not that fancy. I’m just making salad and steak with a chimichurri sauce.”
“Nash Whitlock, you could make any woman fall in love with you with those words.”
“I’ll make sure to update my dating app bio.”
She grins and reaches forward to snag a cherry tomato from the container, popping it into her mouth. “What can I do to help?”
“You cook?” I ask, imitating her shocked tone.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”
It’s my turn to smile. “Nope.”
She marches past me to wash her hands at the deep farm sink. “You’ll just have to see, I guess.” She turns around. “Now, where’s the boxed mac and cheese?”
“That’s it. You’re not allowed to touch my steak.”
She smiles. “Well, at least let me wash the herbs.”
I hold the bunch of flat-leaf parsley out to her. “Only if you promise not to ruin it…”
She narrows her eyes at me and snatches the parsley from my hand, waving it at me like it’s a sword. “Just wait. I’ll be the best parsley washer you’ve ever met.”
And somehow, I believe her.
CHAPTER 12
Nash
