Chapter 8 #2
How he found time to put together this entire feast in between taking care of me and the M&M sisters—who each got some little nibbles of chicken with their dinner and are now snoring on cushions beside the wood stove—is anybody’s guess.
“It’s just a hobby. Cooking and baking help me think. Give me something to do with my hands.”
There are so many things I could say about what else he could do with his hands, but I restrain myself because I really want to eat whatever he’s making tomorrow.
“So, you’re not a baker,” I say after I swallow one last macaron and push the plate away.
That still leaves assassin or bodyguard with killer poodles as potential career options.
“Maybe you should think about it. If these were available at my local bakery, The Twisted Tart, they’d sell out in the first hour.
Natasha, Seamus’s sister-in-law, owns that. Do you know her?”
He glances away, the tension subtle but noticeable. “I’ve met her, but I don’t know her that well. I’m not from around here.”
I already knew that, so there’s no reason the information should disappoint me.
It was one of the first things that attracted me to him.
Just because he’s still here two months later doesn’t mean he’s planning on staying.
It’s not like I want to date the man. I don’t even have a reliable booty call, because I can’t promise my booty will be reliable in return and it doesn’t seem fair.
But you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him for months.
I could say it was safe to pine for and fantasize about him, since he was gone and I thought I’d never see him again.
But it would be a lie, because he’s right here in front of me and my desire is still as strong as ever.
I have to keep reminding myself that this is a very temporary forced-proximity situation that neither one of us invited or asked for. Nothing more.
My next question comes out more sharply than I intend it to. “Where are you from then? Where’s the ranch? Where do you call home?”
His forehead crinkles attractively. “It’s west of here, and I haven’t settled in one particular spot yet, since I traveled a lot for work. California. Canada. Istanbul. Paris.”
I swallow and reach for my water, my throat suddenly dry. “That’s a lot of traveling. Are you an airline pilot?”
“No.” He presses his lips together. “Actually, I’m not anything at the moment. I’m taking a break from work for a while. Doing some soul searching.”
“Baking and thinking.” I try to nod sagely, secretly impressed with how polite I’m being despite my frustration.
I hate when people sound like they’re answering questions but they’re evading instead.
Why is he being so vague? “I’m on sabbatical myself.
Six more months before I’m back in the classroom.
Maybe I should take up baking. I think we can all agree that I’m already fantastic at eating. ”
“Why are you on sabbatical?”
I make a buzzer sound. “Bzzzt. I don’t have to give you any more details, Mystery Michael.
Do you know why? Because I’ve been spilling my guts over this delectable meal, and you haven’t been returning the favor.
I actually think I know more about your uncles and your mother than I do about you.
You deflected my work question, and when I asked where you’re from, you said ‘to the west.’ Practically everything on this continent is to the west of us.
So, I can only assume you’re either a Lord of the Rings character or a secret agent.
I don’t even know why you’re here for this anniversary party or who invited you.
You could be doing anything from dating a Finn to working on one of Tanaka’s satellites. ”
He chokes on his coffee. “You think Ken has satellites?”
New information. He’s on a first name basis with Ken Tanaka.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Bex works for him, so he’s known everything about me since high school.
When I graduated from college, he tossed out a comment about certain purchases I’d made with cash , and how it’s a wonder I didn’t go blind before finals.
How would he know that without satellites?
And before you answer that, I don’t believe in wizards. ”
I’m teasing. Tanaka might be a wizard.
Michael covers his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking. I give him a minute, because I love seeing it, even if it’s at my expense.
“Thank you for that,” he says finally, the smile broad on his handsome face. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this much. My father did some business with Ken years ago, so we’re acquainted. But I had no idea you knew him.”
“You’ve got a great laugh,” I tell him with a smile. “It almost makes up for the irritating way you’re still not taking the hint and answering my questions.”
He leans forward, elbows on the counter, bringing the scent of coffee, chocolate and cedar close enough to make my mouth water.
“I’m single. I’m not here on a date, I don’t work on satellites and I don’t bake for a living.
I’m here because I was invited, and I’ve lived in other countries on and off as an adult, but the ranch where I spent my formative years was near a little Colorado town you’ve probably never heard of, which is definitely west of here. ”
He’s not dating a Finn. It’s such a huge weight off my shoulders I almost float off the stool. I’m not about cheating, and I’ve been having some thoughts when it came to Michael that I might have felt profoundly guilty about if he’d been in a relationship with someone else.
“A single rancher who likes to cook. You’re a very interesting man, Michael.” He’s a romance hero come to life, no dragon imagery required.
“You’re right about me not working the ranch,” he says hesitantly.
“I worked for my father’s financial firm instead.
Investigations and research. I didn’t see him that much.
We usually weren’t even in the same country, which wasn’t great because the whole reason I agreed to the job was to get to know him.
He passed away six months ago and I realized there was no point in me staying, since I didn’t like anyone there, and they weren’t that fond of me.
I’ve been freelancing a bit, but now I’m taking some time to consider my next steps.
” He frowns. “I’m a little rusty when it comes to talking about myself. How was that?”
“Much better. It’s a good start.” I get the sense that he didn’t mean to reveal that much, even though “investigations and research” was vague enough that it could mean anything and I have a few hundred follow-up questions about his father.
“So, if you’re not dating anyone and you’re not related to the family…?” I let my question hang in the air, but he knows what I’m asking.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I suppose it isn’t that big of a secret.
Hell, your friend probably knows by now, since I used Seamus as one of those references he asked for.
He’s the one who invited me, because my brother is his husband.
My half-brother,” he corrects quickly. “We haven’t known each other all that long. ”
Holy shit. Tumblers click into place as I try to keep my jaw from dropping. World travel. Father in finance. Speaks Turkish. Private tutors. “Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Demir, would it?”