Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

over mine. "Now I need to get back to work. I'll see you later."
    ****
    Hey,
    You're not allowed in the kitchen tonight. Dinner will be served at 7.30. Appetizers will be served in the living room beforehand.
    Hope you like it.
    Will.
    "Where would you recommend we go for dinner?" Mr. and Mrs. Douglas stood in the hallway, clutching their room key, I was pleased to note.
    "It depends what you want. There are a few good places on Main Street."
    "Mexican, I want a good Mexican meal." Mrs. Douglas dropped the key in her handbag.
    "Try Casa Verde. I hear they're pretty good."
    "Whatever you've got cooking in the kitchen smells nice. Pity you don't do evening meals here."
    The aroma of something good drifted beneath the closed door.
    "Sorry about that. We're still finding our way with the business. We may start doing evening meals at some point just not right now."
    "Well, I hope you do." Mrs. Douglas smiled and walked out the door, followed by her husband.
    The September evening had a chill to it. I closed the door behind them and retreated to the living room to wait for my mystery dinner. Will sang along with the radio, his voice almost in tune while he clattered about with pots and pans. I retrieved my book from a table and settled down to read.
    "Ah, here you are." Will strolled into the room. "I brought you a drink." He set a glass of wine on the coffee table along with a plate of things on crackers. "I'll join you in a minute." He kissed my forehead and left.
    I sipped the wine and studied the plate before selecting a cracker spread with some kind of cream cheese. Every cracker was different, arranged carefully on the plate. I tried to reconcile the cowboy with the man who'd prepared those.
    "Back." Will sank onto the sofa beside me. "I hope you're hungry."
    "Starving." I took another cracker.
    "Good." He sipped his wine and rested his arm around my shoulders.
    I settled beside him, glad of his presence. The scent of his aftershave drifted between us—juniper and lemon. "So what are we having?"
    "It's a surprise."
    "I can smell wine…and onions…and thyme."
    Will smiled and ran his hand through my hair. "No fishing. I'm not telling and no clues either. Have another cracker." He plucked one from the plate and held it to my lips. "This one has smoked salmon."
    I took a bite. "I love smoked salmon."
    "Good, so do I." He rose and closed the drapes against the cool dusk. "Come on, then. Bring your wine. Dinner is about to be served."
    I took his outstretched hand and let him lead me toward the kitchen.
    "Sorry it's not all candlelit and stuff. I should've served it in the dining room."
    "No, this is just fine."
    Will held the chair out for me. "Get yourself comfortable. I'll get the appetizer."
    I settled into my chair and watched him move with an easy grace around the room.
    He opened the oven and removed two small gratin dishes. "Hope you like scallops."
    "I haven't had those since…"
    Will set the dish on the table. "Coquille St Jacques. Enjoy."
    I stared at him for a moment. The aroma of cheese and white wine drifted upwards in an idle trail of steam. "It smells delicious."
    He speared a scallop with his fork and blew on it. "Hope it tastes as good as it smells."
    "I'll soon tell you." I fished a scallop out of the cheesy mess and tasted it, aware that Will watched me, a question in his eyes.
    "Well?"
    "Perfect. Haven't tasted better since LA."
    He grinned. "Thank Christ for that. I haven't made those before. I saw the scallops in the market and thought I'd give 'em a go."
    When the scallops were gone, I mopped up the sauce with a piece of French bread until the dish was pretty much clean.
    "So you enjoyed it, then." Will took the empty dishes away.
    "Very much. You can make that whenever you like."
    He returned to the table and poured out more wine. "Thanks."
    "I should be thanking you."
    "You haven't tried the main course. I used more wine for that."
    I raised my glass to him. "You can never have too much wine."
    Will returned the gesture "I figured I might as well use it all."
    He returned to the oven and removed a large casserole dish. "I decided to make it all French this evening. I thought you'd like that."
    "French is good. I like French cooking." I watched him ladle food onto a plate.
    "Here you go." He handed me the plate, filled with chicken, potatoes and peas. "Poulet Marengo."
    The heady aroma of white wine and herbs rose from the plate. The chicken fell away from the bone at a touch.
    Once again,