Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(58)

She tried to see if she could find any trace of obligation in his face but all she could see was kindness. “Thank you,” she said.

“Is red okay?”

“Yes.” She watched him retrieve a bottle from the wine cooler and uncork it. He pulled two glasses down from the cabinet, filled them over halfway full, and handed one to her.

“So,” he said before taking a quick sip of his and setting it down on the gigantic marble countertop. “What are we making tonight?”

“Sausage casserole and pinwheels,” she said smiling.

“I’ve never had either.”

“And you’d like to help me cook?” She had no idea if he was just being polite, what plans he had for the night, or if he had work to do, but since he was standing in the kitchen with her, drinking a glass of wine, she figured it was probably okay.

“Definitely.” He took another drink of wine and then unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves. He rolled them up just under his elbows and turned on the water at the sink. It was more than a sink. It was a huge basin made of some sort of ceramic or porcelain—she wasn’t sure. It was bright and shiny, the faucet a gleaming silver. She set down her wine and joined him.

“You know, this room could do with some decorating too,” she said, looking around as she washed her hands. “Maybe put some fresh flowers here on this ledge. Hang some greenery along that doorway for Christmas…”

“It’s fine,” he said with a smile.

Toweling off her hands, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the vegetables. “I’ll need a knife and a cutting board,” she said. “You might actually do something other than work if you had your home the way you like it.” She grinned at him to let him know that while she was serious, her comment was lighthearted. “If there was no work at all, what would you do? Read? Watch sports? What?”

As Nick retrieved her supplies, she rinsed the onion under the water and shook it off.

“I’d probably…” He fell silent.

She waited, hoping he’d come up with something. “You don’t know?”

“It isn’t a reality. I’ll always have work, so it doesn’t matter.”

“We’re going to need to dice this onion.” She chopped the ends off and set them aside. Then, she began to cut large rounds of onion, her knife rocking back and forth over the rounds to dice them up. Her eyes were stinging, starting to tear up, and her nose was getting sniffly. “Sorry. I get like this when I have to chop them.”

Nick handed her a tissue from a silver container. She wiped her eyes.

“Let me give you a break,” he said, walking around the counter and standing beside her. “What’s next?” He handed her wine to her.

“We need to brown the sausage,” she said. “And we haven’t finished discussing what you would do if you weren’t working.” Being with him like this felt natural for her.

“I’d… play piano, I suppose. I haven’t thought about playing piano in a long time. Not until you came.” He got out a stainless steel skillet and a spatula. “These okay?” He was smiling, his expression and her exhaustion making the wine go to her head faster than it should.

“Perfect.”

He put the skillet on one of the eight burners he had on his stove—the giant trapezoid-shaped hood on top of it was probably the size of her car. She retrieved the sausage and handed it to him. With a sizzle, it began to cook in the pan the minute he put it in.

“The house is coming along nicely,” he said, stirring the meat in the pan. The spicy smell of it saturated the air around them. Watching him cook, she’d never know that he had people who prepared meals for him. He looked like he’d handled a pan and spatula before. “What’s left on your decorating list?” He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and turned to face her.

“Well, I have painters for one of the bedrooms coming tomorrow. I have to finish the exterior. I’m planning to put some white lights outside. There’s the informal living room, and then the bathrooms and hallways. I also have to make sure the bar in the ballroom gets finished and is all set up for your party… You know how to cook,” she pointed out.

“Yes.” He looked at her, perplexed.

“I didn’t know you could, since you have someone cook all your meals.”

“Oh. That’s just because I’m busy. I don’t have time to cook.”

“But you are now.”

“Like I said. You distract me.” He grinned at her.

“Well, maybe that’s because talking to me and cooking are more fun than working. Maybe I don’t distract you, I just shift your focus.”