“I have plenty of experience,” he mumbled as he reached in and pulled out another beer. “I got steaks, shrimp, and chicken. Didn’t you say you were gonna make dinner?”
She wanted to see what else he’d gotten, but he was blocking her view. She bumped his hip with hers to move him out of the way. And there it was again, that little sizzle when she touched him.
He moved, but not quite far enough. Instead of looking in the refrigerator, he was looking at her.
“What?”
“Nothin’.” He walked to the other side of the island and sat on a stool.
The kitchen was Renie’s favorite part of the house. It was a cook’s kitchen—a gourmet cook. It had two convection ovens, a seven-burner Wolf cook top, and thick, rough-edged granite counters, and all kinds of cool built-ins like the wine cooler.
Renie looked through the refrigerator and saw he’d gotten vegetables, too.
She pulled out a head of lettuce and raised her eyebrows at him.
“What?”
“This is a vegetable,” she answered. “Not a very nutritious one, but still a vegetable. Did you know that when you bought it?”
“You’re hysterical. You should be glad my mama didn’t hear you say that. She forced me to eat plenty of vegetables when I was a kid.”
“Forced you.” Another eye roll.
“You gonna make dinner or keep makin’ fun of me? If you don’t get at it, I’m gonna start cookin’ myself, and you don’t want that.”
“It’s time you learned to cook. You’ve got this amazing kitchen, and then when you invite—”
“Don’t say another word about me inviting girls over, Renie.” He glared at her, so she gave him an okay sign.
“So who’s gonna teach me? You?”
“Sure, tonight will be your first lesson.”
Renie made Billy wash the lettuce, and then showed him how to chop other vegetables for a salad. He needed to practice chopping and dicing, but it wasn’t bad for his first attempt.
A couple of times she put her hand around his on the knife, to show him how to hold it at a better angle. The first time he flinched.
“What?”
“Nothin’. I didn’t expect you to do that.”
“Billy, what’s going on with you? You all jacked up on energy drinks?”
Renie walked to the sink to wash her hands, but more to take a deep breath and settle herself.
“What do you want me to do next?”
“Sit down and I’ll cook the shrimp. You can watch. Or go out on the deck.”
“I’ll watch.” He pulled the stool closer to the end of the counter. “How come you don’t complain about cookin’ for me?”
“It isn’t all for you. I’m cooking for myself too. Plus I enjoy it. It’s something my mom and I did together, as far back as I remember.”
“Some of my best memories are sittin’ in this kitchen watchin’ you and your mama cook.”
“We have had good times in this kitchen,” she answered. “I miss her.”
“I miss her too.”