Page 80 of Recipe for Rivals
Heat curled in my chest, but I tried to keep my feelings in the friendzone. I nodded toward Leia. “You make that look creepy.”
Dusty’s face split into a grin.
“You could be Lady Tremaine for Halloween.”
“Who?”
“The evil stepmother inCinderella.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding slowly like he understood and possibly agreed. “Should we finish the puzzle?”
“I’d love to. Want me to bring you some water? It’s either that or chocolate milk.”
“Water, please.”
I filled a glass and brought it to the table. I should have had something else to offer him—I mean, all I was doing with that water glass was waving both of my flags, the poor one and the mom one. But, honestly, Dusty was well aware of both of those things, and it hadn’t stopped us from becoming friends. I grabbed the plate of oatmeal chocolate fudge bars I’d made yesterday and put it on the table.
We sat together, working through the blue ocean pieces and snacking on cookie bars. Dusty told me about the small farm he grew up on and how he didn’t keep animals on it anymore except his horse. Though half the time, even his horse stayed with Tucker, so they could practice roping for the local rodeo.
“Do you want to have animals again someday?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and watching him do everything with one hand while the other petted his sleeping cat.
“Maybe. It’s impossible with my job schedule now. Eventually, when I have kids to boss around, I can think about getting some. You know, people I can command to feed animals and muck stalls.”
“Kids are great for bossing around,” I said, nodding sagely. “They always do exactly what they’re told and never miss a single chore.”
He seemed to sense I was kidding. “Hopefully I’ll have a wife who likes animals too, and it’ll be a joint effort.”
A wife. So he did want one, then? When a guy was almost thirty and didn’t have a girlfriend, it was hard to know what his priorities were, if marriage was even something he wanted. I itched to ask him why he wasn’t married yet, but I couldn’tbreach the personal nature of that conversation. It felt like too much, somehow.
“I wish you luck in finding her,” I said, pouring all my attention into the little blue puzzle piece that didn’t fit anywhere. I could sense Dusty’s eyes on me, but instead of looking up, I picked up a second piece and fitted it in place.
We were almost finished. The next ten minutes went by easily, our conversation shifting to what we had both been interested in during high school. Him, football of course. Me, choir and culinary arts.
“I did cross country for a while too, and I wasn’t too shabby at it,” I said.
“We have a few great places nearby to go running, if you want trails.”
“Oh, it’s been too long. I don’t think I have it in me anymore.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “What do you do for you, Nova?”
“Eat,” I said, pinching another corner from a fudgy oat bar and popping it in my mouth.
“What else?”
“I have too many things on my plate to worry about hobbies.”
“Okay, before, when you didn’t have so many things on your plate. What did you do for you then?”
Nothing. That was the truth. I cleaned, cooked, got the kids everywhere they needed to be. When I had a minute to myself, I usually was trying a new recipe or meeting a friend for lunch. I did workouts in my living room to stay in shape and make it possible to eat all the things, but I hadn’t run in quite a few years. Not since getting pregnant with Alice. But my life didn’t seem lacking because of it, either.
“Honestly, I’m okay being in one of those stages where I’m always a little frazzled and don’t worry about wearing makeupor getting me time. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my kids being my focus, especially while they’re going through this huge change.”
He nodded, but his mouth pressed into a thin line, considering. “I’m not a dad, so I really can’t give an opinion. But I have gone through a lot of first responder training, and I can’t help but think about oxygen. We need it to breathe, right? It’s important. When you’re on an airplane and the oxygen masks drop, what do the flight attendants want you to do?”
“Put my mask on first. I know where you’re going with this.”
“Perfect. That makes my point easier to get across.” He shot me a teasing grin, then sobered, his honey eyes glued to me. “You get to decide what your mask is, Nova. If it’s baking, great. Running? Great. Trips to Disney World? Expensive, but great. You get to decide what you need to keep your oxygen levels healthy.”