Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Aspen wanted me to make a salad but I decided you should just enjoy my lasagna without being forced to eat something good for you.” He laughs.
“Next time we have you over,” Aspen says, “there will be a salad.”
Kelly says nothing.
“Help yourself to some garlic bread, and I’ll get the pièce de résistance.” Buck heads back into the kitchen.
Aspen picks up the plate of garlic bread and hands it to me. I take a piece and give it to Kelly. She also takes a piece and hands it back to Aspen, murmuring her thanks.
Kelly murmurs when she’s being nice. She shouts when she’s being mean.
She’s an interesting individual, and I’m intrigued by her. I may as well try to get to know her since I’m forced to be with her.
Forced proximity.
Fun.
At least she’s nice to look at. She looks hotter than forty hells in that miniskirt, and her legs are shapely in the black tights.
“Here we are!” Buck strides in, strutting like a fucking peacock, carrying the lasagna while wearing red and white checkered oven mitts.
I burst into laughter.
“What the fuck is so funny, Phoenix?”
“You are. You and your oven mitts.”
“Would you rather I sear my hands on this hot casserole?”
“Sorry, man. It’s just kind of hilarious.”
“Why is it funny?” Kelly asks.
I turn and look at her. Her eyes are narrowed slightly. Is she serious? She’s really asking me why this is funny?
“Buck is a Navy SEAL,” I say. “We fought for our lives in Afghanistan, rescued people. And he’s wearing oven mitts.”
“And you find that funny?”
“I find that fucking hilarious,” I laugh.
She cocks her head. Maybe she just doesn’t get it, and that’s okay.
“It’s okay,” Buck says to Kelly. “We’ve been giving each other shit since we first met.”
Kelly nods slightly.
“It smells fantastic.” I inhale. “Tomatoes, cheese, and lots and lots of meat.”
“Don’t forget the homemade pasta noodles,” Buck says.
“You made homemade pasta?”
Buck laughs again. “Gotcha! My mom makes homemade pasta. I don’t have that kind of time. Or the patience.”
“I’m sure it will be delicious as always, honey.” Aspen takes a seat.
“This casserole is hot.” Buck sets it on the table. “Hence the oven mitts that Phoenix finds so humorous.”
I choose not to make fun of Buck using the word “hence.”
“But since it’s so hot, just pass your plates to me, and I’ll serve you.” Buck nods to Kelly. “Ladies first.”
Kelly’s cheeks flush a beautiful pink as she hands him her plate. “Just a small piece, please.”
“You got it.” Buck puts a massive piece on her plate.
“That’s a small piece?” she asks.
“Yeah. If you’re Italian.” Buck puts the same size piece on Aspen’s plate. “Here you go, baby,”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for small piece.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
I hand Buck my plate. “I’ll have a fucking giant piece.”
“You got it, Phoenix.” He slaps a huge portion onto my plate, nearly knocking the slice of garlic bread off the side of it. I set my plate back down in front of me and inhale again.
Robust Italian food. Good stuff.
When you grow up with a Norwegian mother, you get a lot of lutefisk and lefse. It’s good, but there’s nothing like good old southern Italian cuisine.
“Dig in.” Buck unfolds his napkin and places it across his lap.
I cut off a small piece of lasagna with my fork and bring it to my mouth. I blow on it and then slide it between my lips.
Damn. Buck can cook. I swallow against the heat of lasagna. “How is it that I’ve never had this before?”
“The ingredients weren’t readily available in the trenches of Afghanistan.”
I put my fork down and make a face at Buck. “I mean since we been back, dickhead. I’ve had your antipasti but not this.”
Kelly stiffens beside me. Is she offended that I called Buck a dickhead? Hell, we’ve called each other worse.
“I don’t know. The antipasti takes about thirty seconds to put together. Other than that, I haven’t done a lot of cooking. You and I have been going from one place to another working for the Wolfes. But since Aspen and I can’t have our honeymoon, I want us to at least have a good home-cooked meal.”
“It’s delicious. Even your garlic bread is delicious.”
“Thanks, Phoenix. But I’ve got to be honest. All of this is nothing compared to what my mom can do.”
Aspen nods and swallows her bite of food. “When Buck first took me to meet his parents, after Luke and Katelyn got married, Marina made lasagna. I swear to God, it was like heaven on a plate.”
Kelly stiffens again.
“You okay?” I ask.
She chews the lasagna and swallows. “Yeah. Why?”
“You just seem…tense.”
Which is an understatement. The tension is flowing off her in waves, and I sensed it get stronger when Buck mentioned his mother.
“I’m fine.” She takes another piece of lasagna with her fork and shoves it inside her mouth.