Just One Taste
Page 30
The one that said she was appalled at how stupid Rosemary was for not figuring out what to do, and doing it.
Rosemary’s breath caught. “Oh no. I’m not falling for that.”
She set Lucille on the floor. Lucille immediately trotted over to the door and scratched at it, glancing back to level the Look directly at Rosemary. Who wrung her hands and tried to marshal her thoughts.
“Okay, I know. He said he loves me. And he left that job to come up here.”
Lucille cocked her head, black eyes bright and curious on Rosemary’s face.
“Oh God,” she said, her mind finally breaking the sound barrier and racing ahead, fast enough to shoot up into the sky, faster than the speed of light. “What he said about making a choice—he chose me. On one hand he had the job of his dreams, a sure thing, and on the other he had me—a total variable, no idea how I’d react to the other elements in this situation—and he chose me anyway.”
She looked down at Lucille. “He really loves me.”
Lucille responded by standing on her hind legs and using both front paws to try and dig her way through the closed door.
“But what should I do?” Rosemary cried, emotion threatening to engulf her again.
Lucille barked again, cutting the tsunami of fear and self-doubt off before it could get Rosemary in a Vulcan nerve pinch.
“You’re right,” she gasped. “I have to go after him.”
Tearing the door open, Rosemary ran out of the lab and down the hall. She rammed through the building’s doors and dashed out into the quad, a blast of frigid air hitting her in the face.
It had snowed at some point while she’d been buried in the lab; she remembered Sloane remarking on it, laughing while shaking snowflakes off the paper bag holding Rosemary’s dinner.
And it was snowing again now, the sky a steely gray bleeding out to swirls of white falling silently to the icy ground. The quad was deserted, all the culinary students in lectures or in the test kitchens, and Rosemary turned in a frantic circle, searching for movement, life, anything to indicate Wes.
There. A solitary figure fifty meters away, trudging toward the parking lot, hands in pockets, shoulders bowed against the chill wind.
Rosemary cupped her fingers around her mouth and shouted, but that same wind grabbed her voice and scattered it. Wes didn’t turn around.
She started to run. Cold air drove through her thin lab coat like needles against her skin, and when she heaved in a breath, it was like swallowing a jagged ice cube down into her lungs, but she kept going.
By the time she was close enough to make him hear her, she had no more breath to shout, so she stumbled the last few steps in harsh, gasping silence, until he was there, an arm’s length away, closer, her hand on his back, fingers too numb to register the roughness of his jacket.
Wes felt her, though, and wheeled around just in time to catch her as she flung herself into his arms.
She didn’t know she was crying until he said, “Rosie, no, no, no,” and wiped her frozen cheeks with his big, warm hands.
“I love you, too,” she choked, frantic to get the words out, to be sure he heard them and believed them and didn’t leave.
“Yeah?” he said, and a smile broke over his face, splitting his cheeks wide, and everything inside Rosemary that had jammed up when he told her he loved her jerked loose again, a torrent of joy and adoration and the kind of trust she never thought she’d have in another human being.
“Yes,” she told him as he unzipped his jacket and folded the open edges around her back, enclosing her in a cocoon of shocking heat. She burrowed in, winding her arms around his lean, hard waist, and propped her chin against the rigid bone of his sternum. “You’re my essential thing. So you really can’t go anywhere, at least not without me.”
He stared down at her as if he’d never seen anything so miraculous, and Rosemary knew it was true; it was a miracle that they were together, locked in this embrace, their hearts pounding against each other in perfect time.
She was a woman of science; she’d never believed in miracles. But this moment defied all logic, all rationality, every known constant of her life.
Maybe, just maybe, she thought as he bent his head and singed her cold lips with his hot, devouring mouth, there’s more to chemistry than science.
“Yip! Yipyipyipyip!”
They broke apart, laughing and maybe crying a little, too, and Rosemary looked down to see Lucille attempting to climb up Wes’s leg, her short body contorting with the effort.
Wes scooped her up and wedged her between their torsos, where she huddled happily, and said, “Why do we have this dog again?”
“Because she’s smarter than both of us,” Rosemary said. “Lucille is a true example of the merits of crossbreeding.”
Wes waggled his eyebrows. “It works for dogs, you think it’ll work for humans, too?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“A con artist and a genius,” he said thoughtfully, wrapping her even more tightly in his coat. “Wonder what our kids will be like?”
“Kids!” Rosemary froze, staring up at him. She knew panic must be written all over her face, in the rigidity of her body against his, but Wes just laughed.
“One thing at a time, I think. Come on, honey, breathe.”
She lifted her face. “Remind me how?”
Wes’s eyes flashed pure gold for an instant before he took her lips in a slow, tender kiss that left every corner of her mouth feeling claimed.
Oh yes, she thought hazily. This chemistry thing needs to be explored. In depth. Lots of tests.
It would be an extensive study—preferably one that would take the rest of their lives.
Just One Taste Recipes
CHOCOLATE FONDUE
6 ounces of the best bittersweet chocolate you can find
½ cup heavy whipping cream
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons cognac
Strawberries, long stems still attached
If you have a fondue pot, simply combine the first four ingredients and stir them together over the heat source. If not, it’s still simple—the only trick is to not burn the chocolate as you melt it.
The most foolproof way I’ve found is to boil water in a large saucepan. Put the chocolate in a heatproof bowl small enough to fit inside the saucepan. Take the saucepan off the heat, then submerge the heatproof bowl partially in the water, stirring to melt the chocolate. Once the chocolate is liquid, stir in the rest of the ingredients and serve immediately with the strawberries.
WES’S BAECKEOFFE
3 leeks, white and light green parts thinly sliced
1 cup chopped carrots
1 cup chopped parsnips
3 tablespoons minced parsley
1 clove garlic, minced
1½ lbs. pork shoulder, trimmed and cut into ½-inch cubes
1¾ cups gin
1 cup dry vermouth
1 lb. yellow potatoes, thinly sliced
1 large tomato, sliced
olive oil
salt and pepper
In a large bowl, combine the leeks, carrots, parsnips, parsley, garlic, pork, gin, and vermouth. Cover with plastic wrap and let marinate at least two hours, or overnight in the refrigerator.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and remove marinade from the fridge; allow to come to room temperature while you slice the potatoes. Since this is a rustic dish, I don’t usually bother to peel the potatoes, but you can if you prefer a more elegant presentation.
Lightly oil a 3.5-quart covered casserole, then layer half the potato slices on the bottom of the pot. They can overlap slightly. Season with salt and pepper, then, using a slotted spoon, remove the meat and vegetables from the bowl, reserving the marinade. Layer them over the potatoes, and season with salt and pepper. Cover the meat and vegetables with the rest of the potato slices, and give those a sprinkle of salt and pepper, too. Place the tomato slices over top in a single layer.
Pour the reserv
ed marinade over the whole thing, salt and pepper one more time, then cover and bake for two hours. If possible, use a pot with a hole in the lid to allow steam to escape. If you don’t have a casserole like that, just set the lid slightly off center before you put the dish in the oven.
Serve with crusty bread, your favorite mustard (the spicier the better!), and a simple green salad with vinaigrette. Perfect on a cool, autumn day!
FRANKIE’S “PERFECT DAY” SANGRIA
1 bottle fruity red wine like pinot noir, Beaujolais, or rioja
1 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
½ cup lime juice
¼ cup honey
2 ounces brandy
1 ounce cointreau
1 cup ginger beer
½ orange, thinly sliced
½ Granny Smith apple, chopped
1 lime, thinly sliced
1 stick cinnamon, broken in half
Combine all ingredients in a pitcher or punch bowl and refrigerate until ready to drink. Serve over ice. Enjoy on a hot day, lying on a blanket in Central Park with the one you love!