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“You got it.”

Nevertheless, she was irked. He was making the most of the situation. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

His lips quivered with amusement. “I’ll do my best.”

When she approached Ethan for help, Sage had no idea how irritating he could be. And how appealing.

—

Promptly at six-thirty the following evening, Ethan arrived at Sage’s condo carrying a Crock-Pot. He set it on the kitchen counter and plugged it in. Sage had to admit the aroma from the tomato sauce and spices made her mouth water.

“I take it you know how to boil water?” he asked Sage as he set a box of spaghetti noodles next to the Crock-Pot.

“Very funny.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

Sage brought out the largest pot she had, filled it with water, and set it on the stovetop. She turned the burner on high.

Ricky joined them in the kitchen. “I can set the table. It’s my job at home. Mom has me do that every night.”

Sage realized how important it was to her nephew to be helpful. She’d taken that opportunity away from him. “That would be great,” she told him, pleased at his willingness.

Ricky opened the silverware drawer and got three forks and then reached for the napkins while Sage reached for a bowl to toss the packaged salad mix. Earlier, she’d chosen a Caesar variety, although it was a poor imitation of the restaurant ones.

When the salted water came to a roiling boil, Ethan added the dry pasta and set the timer on his phone.

“Do you know the best way to test when the pasta is cooked?” he asked Ricky.

The boy shook his head.

“Sage?”

She shrugged. “I heard someone once say if you tossed it against the wall and it stuck, then it was fully cooked.”

Ethan considered her answer. “I suppose that might work. My mother taught me to remove a noodle.” He took a fork and lifted a single strand from the boiling water and bent it in half. “If you look, there’s a small white circle in the middle, which tells me the spaghetti isn’t ready yet.”

“I see it,” Ricky said. “That circle means it still needs time to cook, right?”

“Right.” Ethan ruffled his hair. “You’re a quick learner.”

A couple minutes later, Ethan’s phone dinged. He turned off the timer and removed another noodle for Ricky to inspect.

“It’s ready,” Ricky said. “And so am I. I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Ethan added.

It didn’t go past Sage’s notice how natural Ethan was with Ricky. He was far more at ease with the boy than she was. If she wasn’t so grateful, Sage could almost be jealous. As it was, Ethan had fit in perfectly. His visit had been a bonus, above and beyond her expectations.

Dinner was delicious. Ethan hadn’t exaggerated when he claimed he knew his way around a recipe. Ricky ate two helpings, and so did Sage.

Sitting back in her chair, Sage placed her hands over her stomach. “That was the best spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.” And she wasn’t lying.

“I humbly accept your praise,” Ethan teased. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She was Italian through and through.”

“The salad was good, too,” Ricky said, as if he felt the need to compliment Sage.

“How very kind of you to say so,” she joked.