Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“Okay, so it’ll help if you prep first on this try.” Esteban deftly emptied Russ’s celery mash into the trash, before producing a gleaming knife from one of his skillets. Grabbing bowls from Russ’s dish drainer, he continued his takeover. “We’ll dice the vegetables, chop the herbs, get the broth heating. Then when everything is ready to go, then that’s when you melt the butter—when you can give it your full attention.”
“That’s smart.” And it was. Russ liked ordered things and dearly wished cooking came more naturally to him so that he wasn’t continually skipping important steps. “I take it you’ve done stuffing before?”
“Yes. When I lived in LA, I worked every sort of food-service job that came my way in between auditions. The longest gig was for a catering company that specialized in American comfort food—” He looked up from his organizing of ingredients to smile knowingly. “And you’re not surprised by my mentioning my stint in LA, so I’m going to bet my friend Mayra the Realtor has been talking again.”
“Yeah.” Russ hoped he wasn’t blushing too badly. Marines didn’t blush, and they didn’t get flustered. Except this one totally did, especially around cute guys. Every darn time, his tongue seemed four sizes too big and his hands got sweaty. “That’s the Realtor I used. She said she’d handled a lot of veteran’s loans, so I went with her after seeing this place. Figured there wasn’t a need to look elsewhere.”
“Ah. A decisive ex-military guy? I like it.” Nodding approvingly, Esteban diced the onion he’d brought, maybe not as perfectly as Soren would, but in neat little stacks nonetheless.
“Ten years in the marines as a supply specialist,” he confirmed, feeling pretty useless watching Esteban work but not sure how to start helping. “Should I be chopping something?”
“Nah. It’s going to be faster if I just do it. I’m something of a control freak and not the best teacher. But keep talking!”
Talking sounded easier than chopping. Which was saying something, since Russ wasn’t a guy who rambled. Shifting his weight from leg to leg, he tried to stretch in a way that didn’t bump into Esteban. His legs stiffened up when he held a position too long.
“Okay, so, house hunting sucked. I had some savings from my years of service, but it wasn’t like I had a budget for the Pearl district or something. This place was everything I was looking for. No need to waste more time.”
That and Mayra’s description of the neighbors had convinced him that this was the sort of accepting community he’d been looking for. But he wasn’t about to tell Esteban that “hot, gay, former movie star” had been enough to get him to offer on the place, even without seeing said movie star yet.
“Fair enough.” Esteban moved around the kitchen the same way he walked—quickly, no motion wasted, but with an innate elegance that made Russ feel like even more of a lumbering giant than usual. “Tell me you bought packaged breadcrumbs? Drying the bread is an additional step that takes time. When are your guests due?”
“Yeah, I got a bag of dried bread cubes.” He fetched the package and set it on the counter, grabbing the broth while he was at it too. “And they’re coming at three o’clock or so. We’re doing what my mom always does and splitting the difference between lunch and dinner, with an early-ish dinner. According to Google, the turkey breast needs to go on at noon.”
“Excellent. I’d say a breast is always best for a small crowd, but I’d be lying.” Esteban’s eyes sparkled in the late morning light, somehow reflecting every spark of brightness in the otherwise gray day. “How many are coming?”
“Just my sister, brother-in-law, their kid, and the mother-in-law, who is also my boss.” He tried not to sigh, thinking of the big Thanksgiving meals growing up.
“Your sister’s mother-in-law is also your boss?” Blinking, Esteban moved on from the onion to the celery.
“It’s kinda complicated, but, after I was discharged, my sister Judy helped me get the job doing orders for her in-law’s remodeling business. I was…a bit at loose ends, I guess you could say. Taking that job made sense. Now, it’s been over year and…”
“The boss is coming to dinner? Sorry. Still stuck on that part.” Esteban laughed as he performed pure magic on the celery, effortlessly creating little cubes, way better than Russ’s efforts.
“Her long-time partner died last year. Judy didn’t want Connie to have to cook, but she’s also pregnant with their second kid, so I said I could host since I’ve finally got my own place.”
In a better place post-discharge, he’d finally vacated Judy’s spare room with a few months to spare for her to turn it into a dream nursery for the new baby.
“And,” he added, “they hadn’t met Soren. But that’s out now, obviously.”