Her first reaction was disappointment that she wouldn’t see him there, but then she decided maybe it was best. That would give her a few hours to prepare herself to greet him in front of the others. “I’ll see you at six, then.”
“I’ll be on time,” he promised, and leaned over to kiss her lingeringly.
She cleared her husky throat when he finally drew back. “Good night, Paul.”
He winked at her and let himself out. Only after she’d locked up behind him did Bonnie realize that neither of them had said anything about getting together again outside the class.
Paul told himself he understood completely why Bonnie wouldn’t want to give any hint to the class that anything had happened between the two of them since last week. She was professional to the core when she stood in front of her group Tuesday evening. Her teaching manner was warm, casual, encouraging, and she treated each participant the same, whether they were experienced in the kitchen or total novices. Or had been in her bed only hours before, he thought, receiving another sweetly impersonal smile that included him in with all the other class members.
“Now that we’ve practiced safe knife skills and had a little break, let’s get to cooking,” she said as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the long prep bar in the center of the kitchen, three to a side, Bonnie at one end. “Everyone put on your apron and pick up your Santoku knife.”
“Paul looks awfully cute in his apron,” Nora said with a giggle. “Maybe he could help you demonstrate again and the rest of us could just watch and admire.”
“As cute as he is, I want you all to leave the class with a few new skills,” Bonnie said easily, barely glancing at Paul as she spoke. “Everyone ready to carefully chop and dice?”
Yeah, Bonnie was doing a great job of hiding any personal feelings she might have for him, Paul thought, roughly tying his apron strings behind his back. Someone who didn’t know better might think they hardly knew each other at all. Just a teacher and a student who was no more special to her than any of the others in the small class. Wasn’t it just great how damned good she was at pretending she didn’t give two flips about him?
Suddenly aware that he was scowling, he smoothed his expression immediately, hoping if anyone had noticed they would attribute it to him trying to memorize the cooking instructions. She talked enthusiastically about bok choy and shiitake mushrooms, about cherry tomatoes and zucchini and radishes and cucumbers and whatever else she’d procured from the market that morning, and he tried very hard to pay attention. But how was he supposed to care about fruits and vegetables when Bonnie stood there looking so fresh and pretty in her colorful skirt and red apron, her golden hair pinned tidily back from her face? When she waved a hand in the air to emphasize a point and all he could think about was how softly those fingers had caressed him last night? When she lifted a spoon to her lips to taste a broth, and he could only remember the sweet, spicy taste of her?
Maybe this class hadn’t been such a clever idea on his part, after all.
“Don’t you agree, Paul?”
The sound of his name made him blink. “Um, what?”
Jennifer leaned close to him, speaking quietly into his ear while Bonnie continued with the demonstration. “I said, doesn’t this food look delicious? Bonnie is really a talented chef. I’m not sure why she’s content to spend her whole life here in western Virginia when she could be making a name for herself in New York or Boston or even California.”
“Bonnie loves it here. The inn has been in her family for several generations. She told my daughter that she has wanted to run this inn ever since she was a little girl visiting here with her mother and brother and sister.”
“Hmm. Well, I was born and grew up within fifteen miles of here, got married right out of high school and divorced last year. I’m about ready to see something besides backwoods and mountains.”
“Shh,” Nora murmured chidingly to Jennifer. “I’m trying to hear how long to broil the bok choy.”
“It will all be in the handouts,” Jennifer said with a shrug, though she turned again to pay attention to the instructions.
Paul certainly hoped so. Not because Jennifer had distracted him from
the lesson, but because his own convoluted emotions had.
The class ended with everyone filling small plates of the dishes they had prepared. While they sampled, Bonnie answered questions and chatted easily.
“In our final class next week, we’ll talk about produce you can buy in winter, and how to preserve summer goodies to enjoy all year,” she promised them. “And I’ll be at the market that morning at eight.”
“These grilled peaches could be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” Lydia enthused, her eyelids half-closed in ecstasy. “I’ve got to try making them.”
“Thank you,” Bonnie said. “I love them, myself.”
“Bonnie, we must put these on the menu for the anniversary party for my parents,” Nora insisted. She glanced at Paul as she explained, “My parents are celebrating their fortieth anniversary next month and my sister and I are hosting an intimate reception for them here at the inn on a Sunday afternoon. Only thirty of their closest friends. I’ve asked Bonnie to handle the catering, which she’s graciously agreed to do.”
Paul remembered that Bonnie had said she would be very busy for the next couple of months with bookings that apparently included Nora’s party, not to mention his daughter’s wedding events. He guessed he’d never realized quite how much work went on behind the scenes of a busy bed-and-breakfast that also catered to outside events, and even provided occasional cooking classes. He thought of Nora’s joking comment last week that the Carmichael siblings were married to the inn. Seemed true enough, considering Kinley was the only one involved in a serious relationship, and that with a man who traveled quite a bit.
It was rather ironic that just as he found himself with lots of options and quite a bit of free time ahead after his daughter’s wedding and the Bauer family’s move, he had become involved with a woman with almost overwhelming commitments to this particular place. True, they were both trying to keep their connection informal—as she had said, “no strings, no regrets,” exactly the way he wanted things between them—but even as he stood in her kitchen with her and the five other members of the class, all he could think about was when he could next manage to be alone with her.
“So, do you want to walk with us out to our cars or are you staying to help the teacher ‘clean up’?” Jennifer asked Paul as the other women began to gather their things and drift out.
Paul suppressed a wince at the knowing tone in Jennifer’s slightly catty question. Maybe he hadn’t been quite as skilled as Bonnie at masking his personal interest in her. But, whatever. It wasn’t as if he were trying to hide his relationship with her. “I’ll hang around if she needs some help,” he said easily.
Joining them in time to overhear, Bonnie smiled. “Actually, you can stash some things in the high cabinets for me again. A tall man is even handier than a step stool,” she added with a laugh to Jennifer.