Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Oh my God, she left us,” he said, sounding panicked. “How long do I whisk this for?”
I walked over and pulled the whisk from Luke’s hand. “It’s mixed.” Taking a cucumber from the cutting board, I dipped it into the dressing, ate it, and then smiled. “And it’s delicious. Good job, Mr. Morrison.”
“How can you be so happy? She left us.”
I waved my hand in the direction of the door. “We’re fine. It’s only a few guests, give or take. I think two of the couples aren’t even planning on being here for dinner. We’re golden either way. I made plenty of food, and game night really isn’t that big of a deal.”
“What about the evening bags?”
“Shit,” I muttered. “I forgot about them. Maybe my mom made them up already.”
Pulling out my phone, I hit her number.
“Brighton, is everything okay?”
“MaryLou needs to be fired for leaving me.”
Her laugh came through the phone. “What are you talking about? You have four guests for dinner—the others told me they’d be eating out—so why are you acting like it’s a full house?”
I gave another eye roll. “Did you make the evening gift bags?”
“Yes. They’re in the hall closet.”
“Oh, good, one less thing I need to do since the traitor left me all alone.”
My mother chuckled. “Make sure you pour the garlic butter sauce over the bread.”
“Right.” Turning to Luke, I asked, “Will you pour the garlic dressing over the bread?”
He nodded.
“How’s Luke doing?” she asked. “I love that he offered to help you this evening. What a sweet boy.”
Turning my body away from him, I grinned. “Mom, he’s covered in food. Flour, sauce—he even has a blueberry in his hair, and I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s there.”
She giggled. “You should have seen your father the first few times we prepared dinner for the guests. He would be covered head to toe in food.”
“I was not!” my father protested.
“I’m sure he’s doing a fine job,” she said. “Such a handsome boy he is.”
Sighing, I replied, “He’s not a boy and yes, he’s very…” My voice trailed off as I looked back at Luke. “Oh. My. God. I’m going to kill him.”
“Why?” my mother asked, her voice laced with concern.
“He’s pouring the lemon vinaigrette over the bread…why? Dear God, why? LUKE!”
He jumped and the glass bowl in his hands fell to the floor and broke. “Jesus, Bree! Look what you made me do!”
“Was that glass? Brighton, what broke? Oh my goodness, it didn’t get in any food, did it?” my mother asked.
“Why were you pouring the dressing over the bread?” I asked as I made my way over to him.
He looked at the bread, then down at the floor where the rest of the dressing had splattered. “You told me to.”
My mouth fell open. “I did no such thing. I said pour the garlic dressing over the bread.”
“You should have said garlic butter, sweetheart,” my mother added.
I pulled the phone back and glared at it before I brought it to my ear again. “I need to go, Mom.”
After hitting End, I looked down at the fresh loaf of Italian bread, then back at Luke.
“You said dressing,” he said. “Was that not dressing I made?”
I placed my thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of my nose and took in a few calming breaths. “Why would I ask you to pour salad dressing over the bread?”
“Don’t know. I thought it was kind of strange.”
I dropped my hand to my side. “We’ll need to run to the bakery and buy some more bread. Do you know where it’s at?”
He shook his head.
“I’ll call Candace.”
He nodded. “Good plan. Should I, um, make more salad dressing?”
We both looked down at the floor. “Yeah, probably.”
Candace answered her phone, thank goodness, and was soon on her way with the bread and the bottle of wine I’d asked her to pick up. For me.
“Table is all set,” I said as I walked back into the kitchen—and stopped dead in my tracks. Luke stood there with a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
He smiled a boyish, almost embarrassed smile, and I couldn’t help but return it. “I did something.”
My smile instantly faded. “What did you do?”
“Well, I always heard you can tell when pasta’s done by throwing it against a wall.”
I scanned the kitchen for the pasta. When I didn’t see any, I focused back on Luke and lifted one single brow.
“I couldn’t really find an open wall…so I sorta threw it higher.”
Slowly dropping my head back, I saw the long noodle hanging onto the ceiling.
“It’s done!” Luke announced with a nervous laugh.
“Okay, we’ll have to worry about that later.”
A knock at the back door had us both turning to see Candace walking in, followed by Kyle and Hunter. All three of them took one look at Luke and their eyes went wide.