Page 53 of Recipe for Rivals
Alice wasdelighted. She jumped like the bed was a trampoline, holding both of her monkey’s overly long arms and flinging her around, her blonde hair lifting with every jump. I hadn’t seen so much joy on her little face in what felt like months, yet Dusty had made her light up repeatedly today. I didn’t even have the space to be jealous that he’d accomplished what I couldn’t, because I was so glad to see my baby happy like this.
“Look, Mom! Peaches is flying!”
I laughed, drawing Dusty’s attention. He gave me a look that sank to the bottom of my stomach. When was the last time a man had looked at me that way? I tore my gaze away. “She’s a natural,” I said to Alice.
“We’ll get out of your hair,” Tucker said, slapping his brother on the back.
“Thanks, guys,” I said. “I owe you.”
“I wouldn’t say no to those cookie bars I’ve been hearing about,” Jack said.
“From who?” Dusty asked, sounding offended.
Jack shrugged. “Annie, I think?”
I’d met her at the Partridges’ barbeque. “Berry crumble bars? I’ll make you some,” I promised, then looked at the other two men. “All of you.”
They grinned. Tucker and Jack went for the front door and I hurried back to the kitchen to stir my beef. “Off the bed now, Alice. That was a one-time thing.”
She muttered, but she listened. “Can Peaches still jump?”
“Only if she’s jumping alone.”
Dusty walked his friends out as I went back to the stove. I wondered for a brief second if he wasn’t coming back, but I heard the tread of his shoes on the exterior staircase and something like relief filled me.
I busied myself fetching an onion, knife, and cutting board while he let himself into my apartment and crossed the living room, stopping on the other side of the counter. “Listen, Nova, I know you don’t want charity, so I’m going to be straight with you.”
I lowered the knife.
He looked at the cutting board. “Do you want to finish that first so we both don’t start crying?”
I glanced at the half-chopped onion. “We won’t cry. It’s a sweet onion.”
“That’s a thing?” He looked thrilled.
“Yes. Yellows are the worst. Stay away from those.”
“Noted.” Dusty’s expression was so earnest, his pale brown eyes soft. “So, I live in a big farmhouse alone with my cat.”
That explained all the cat food he had been buying when we met the first time.
“When I tell you I have things sitting around, I mean it. Mygrandpa left me two rooms full of furniture that aren’t being used.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he put his hand up to stop me.
“Listen, Nova. I’m not offering you charity. I won’t ask you to take them for free. You can give them back when you don’t need them anymore. But let me bring you a few things.”
My hand rested on the cutting board beside the onion, the other gripping the knife. Sweet onion and garlic and sizzling beef filled my nose, but all I could think about was Dusty facing off with me on the other side of the counter. For a rival, he pretty much seemed to be on my side most of the time.
It had been so long since someone was truly on my side. Other than Gigi, of course.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I repeated.
A grin slashed over his face, so wide you’d think I offered to take him to a Cowboys game.