by MacKay, Sue
‘Of course.’
Probably the only way Cam coped. He was a thoroughly organised man about the house. Already she’d come to recognise his routines for getting the dinner on, the house tidied, the boys showered and their homework under way.
‘Hope you don’t mind the meals we have here,’ Cam said later that night, as he pulled a packet of mince from the freezer.
‘Meat patties tomorrow night, then?’
‘You’ve worked it out already?’ Cam’s smile was wary. ‘I do vary the menu occasionally. It’s also different from summer to winter. I make mostly casseroles in the colder months, which are great for being able to slow-cook in the crockpot all day.’
‘You’re very well organised.’ Her routine used to involve going to the supermarket every day after work, where there were all manner and number of solutions for meals and drinks.
‘You avoided my original question.’
Handing Cam his mug of tea, she laughed. ‘Relax. I’m hardly going to complain, am I? You might tell me to get my own dinner and that would be a disaster.’
‘You’ve never cooked?’ He did look a little bamboozled by the thought of that.
‘You’re asking because I’m female and all good women are goddesses in the kitchen?’ Her hair swirled around her face as she shook her head. ‘Not me. Why bother learning when supermarkets shelves are filled with so many options for heat-and-eat meals? They mightn’t be gourmet but compared to what I create they’re delicious.’
Heat slipped up his neck and into his cheeks. ‘I didn’t mean to be all gung-ho over whose role is whose in the house. I enjoy cooking, especially when I’m not rushing around like a lunatic, trying to get everything done so I can get to bed before midnight.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s something special about putting together a meal to share with family or friends. For me it’s a way of showing I care.’ Another shrug. ‘Even if I only barbecue some sausages.’
She hadn’t thought of it that way. Sharing with family or friends. She used to share flowers from her garden. That had always made her feel good and hopefully it had done the same for the people she’d given them to. ‘I can see how that might be. Except I’d probably lose any friends I might have. Can you imagine sitting down to eat that chicken chasseur I somehow managed to destroy?’
His nose wrinkled and his mouth curved ever so slightly upwards. ‘Truthfully? No. It had a distinctly unappealing look to it. Cooking rule number one: remember that people eat with their eyes before they pick up their knife and fork.’
Rule one, eh? ‘So it’s all about presentation.’
‘Yep. You can fool people quite a lot if the plate looks appetising.’
*
The next morning Jenny swung into Amanda’s large kitchen and stopped to gape at the array of cookery books on the shelves. ‘You must have hundreds of books.’
‘I should really go through them and toss the older ones out but I can’t bring myself to do it.’ Amanda jammed her hands on her hips as she joined Jenny in staring at the collection. ‘So many recipes and no time to read them, let alone use them.’
‘Does everyone in Havelock like cooking?’ The bakery was beyond excellent; Cam wasn’t adverse to putting a meal together; and now this. From a wooden rail above the central island gleaming pots and pans hung off hooks within easy reach of anyone working at the bench. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘I used to be a chef before I had four kids and took on teaching swimming.’ Behind the orange and black hair was obviously a very smart brain.
‘You wouldn’t go back into a kitchen here in Havelock?’
As the nostril-twitching aroma of good coffee filled the kitchen, Amanda crossed to a cupboard and found some cups. ‘No. It would take most of my time and I far prefer being here for the children. They’re growing up so fast already that they’ll be gone out into the big, wide world before I know it, and to have wasted these years in a commercial kitchen would be gutting.’
There was a truth in that. Amanda’s focus was family, whereas she didn’t have to think about anyone else. Yet in the past week she’d started to reach out to Mum and Dad with daily emails that were long, wordy ramblings about her stay with the Roberts family. A family that she was trying to help in any little way she could, even if Cam ran such an organised household that there was little she actually did that made any difference.
‘Amanda…’ Jenny paused. Was she about to ask something impossible? Not to mention stupid? ‘Would you show me how to cook a couple of simple meals that I could prepare for Cam and the boys? I’ll pay for everything. If you have the time, of course.’
The woman didn’t even hesitate. Not so bright in that orange head after all? ‘That would be fun. When do you want to start?’
Oh. Um. Next week? But what if she’d gone by then? ‘Today?’
Again, no hesitation. ‘Drink your coffee and we’ll discuss what we’re having for dinner tonight.’
‘We will?’ Eek. What had she done? Her? Cooking? Yeah, why not? ‘I’m absolutely hopeless in a kitchen. Like, really and truly useless.’ She’d make a total stuff-up and Amanda would regret agreeing to show her the basics. Shush, Amanda’s talking.
‘I’ve an idea. I make meals that suit the kids as well as Ross and myself. Why don’t we make twice as much and you take home enough for Cam and his lads? That way I can talk you through the process and I’m not having to think up two different meals every time.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ Every time? Would there be more than one chance at this? Warmth flooded her. Was she really about to embark on a cooking lesson? Unbelievable. ‘This coffee’s great.’
‘Told you it would be.’ Amanda grinned. ‘Do you like beef stroganoff?’
‘I love it. Would Marcus and Andrew like that?’
‘My kids can never get enough of it so I’m sure the twins will be the same. They might’ve had it here some time.’
Uh-oh. ‘I’ll have to cook rice.’
‘Get a rice cooker. I’ve got one somewhere I’ll lend you for starters.’
*
The rice was white and fluffy. The beef melted in her mouth. And Cam and the boys had seconds. Jenny couldn’t stop smiling.
‘That was yummy. So you bought a packet with instructions in English.’ Cam gave her the biggest smile yet. One that went all the way down to the tips of her toes.
Shaking her head at him, she gave a return smile. ‘No packets involved. That was the real article. Made from scratch.’
His eyebrows rose distressingly high. His eyeballs might pop out if he wasn’t careful. ‘Have you been pulling my leg about your cooking skills?’
‘Nope. This morning I had a lesson from an ex chef.’ Wow, she felt good. Not only had she done something other than wipe down benches for this wonderful man but she’d knocked back one of her gremlins. She could cook—with a lot of help from Amanda. Easy, girl: pride before a fall. One dinner does not make a competent cook.
‘You’ve been talking to Amanda.’ Cam’s eyebrows returned to their natural position.
‘More like listening as she explained how to slice beef across the grain, and not to over-stir the sauce ingredients. I’ve had a great day.’ A really great day. ‘Oh, except Amanda managed to slice three fingers while showing me how fast she was at chopping onions.’
‘I take it you weren’t required to sew her digits back on?’ Cam’s eyebrows rose and his mouth curved into a heart-warming smile.
‘She refused to even consider stitches so I made some butterfly plasters from her first-aid kit supplies.’ It hadn’t been a major incident but she’d felt good to have been able to help Amanda medically. The doctor part of her make-up seemed to be waking up here in Havelock, too. ‘Amanda won’t be using her left hand for much over the next few days.’
‘Knowing that woman, I wouldn’t bet on it. I’m glad you were there for her.’
‘Me, too.’ Yeah, and leaving Cam just got a whole lot harder. Seeing those smiles as they’d all tucked into dinn
er had warmed her deep inside in a way she’d never felt, even before Alison’s death. This warmth came with a sense of belonging. Finding her mojo?
Maybe I won’t leave. Oh, sure, I’m going to settle down in Havelock, lift the population number to five hundred and one, and do what exactly? Sell beef stroganoff at the gate? Like a pricked balloon her happiness shrivelled in on itself. She had to leave soon.
Cam gathered up the plates and stood up. ‘That was the tastiest meal we’ve had in this house. Go, you.’ In the kitchen he sluiced the dishes and said quietly, ‘The boys love having you bring them home after school, by the way. I prefer it for them. Adds to the stability of their lives, which has been a roller-coaster ride so far.’
Stunned at him even admitting that, she held her breath while thinking about what he’d revealed. She’d wanted to help Cam out, but in this way? The connotations were huge. Doing this involved trust and care and could wreck those little boys’ hearts again when she was gone.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t do it any more. Have you thought how they’ll feel when I go away?’ She was going to feel awful. Leaving the boys would be hard. Leaving Cam—well, she couldn’t begin to imagine how that would feel. She suspected gut-wrenching wouldn’t begin to describe it.
‘I have, but I’m banking on the summer holidays being long enough they won’t be at all perturbed.’
Right, he had it all sorted. Except, ‘I won’t be here until the end of term.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘I am.’ And because she owed him, she added, ‘There’s some place I absolutely have to be. No argument.’
‘I see.’ It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t see at all. How could he? He knew nothing about what drove her.
‘I’ll clean up the kitchen if you’ve got other things to get done.’ She stood up and rubbed the small of her back where it had been aching for a while.
Cam’s gaze followed her hands as she rubbed up and down, working her fingers into the tight muscles. He swallowed hard and pressed his lips tight. The plates in his hands banged onto the bench. She bit down on the reluctant smile about to break across her mouth. It wouldn’t do for him to know she’d noticed his reaction. They couldn’t follow through. Because of the children. Because she wasn’t ready. Because she was leaving and flings, even very short ones, weren’t on her agenda. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t find some sweet pleasure in having him a little bit attracted to her.
He made her feel alive again, reminded her she was a woman, not just someone traipsing the country looking for forgiveness and the incentive to return to medicine.
The only person who has to forgive you is you.
The salt and pepper shakers dropped from her hand onto the table with a bang. What? Where had that dumb idea come from? Not her, that’s for certain. Mum and Dad must hold her responsible for Alison’s death. Didn’t they? They’d never come out and said so but she’d been the only person there when it had happened so, of course, she should’ve been able to do something to save Alison.
‘Jenny? What is it?’ Cam was at her side, pushing her gently back onto the chair she’d just risen from. ‘What’s going on?’
She snapped her mouth shut before she could spill the words that would tell him what a dreadful sister she’d been, not to mention a useless doctor. That would certainly remove any hint of attraction he might feel for her, and she really didn’t want to lose that. Not yet. In a few days’ time when she went away she’d deal with that. But not tonight. Not now. ‘I’m fine. Just moved too fast and cricked my ankle.’
Cam made his usual move and pressed a finger under her chin, raising her face so he could lock eyes with her. ‘Try again. I don’t believe it.’ There was nothing but concern and compassion looking out at her, but she wouldn’t fall for it. She had to be strong. Despite telling him about the accident that had taken Alison, she’d not filled him in on all the gruesome details and she wasn’t about to start. They were her horrors to deal with, no one else’s. Especially not this man’s, who’d done nothing but show her kindness.
Pushing his hand aside, she stood again. ‘Then we’ll have to agree to disagree.’ Snatching up the salt and pepper, she slipped past him into the kitchen and started rinsing off dishes. Please go and find another chore to do, preferably one in another room. Leave me to myself for a bit. I’ll come right quicker that way.
But when she turned around Cam stood right there in front of her, that concerned expression on his face changing, morphing into…? ‘What?’
‘Jenny.’ His hands touched her cheeks, oh, so lightly. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered, as he moved his head closer.
This wasn’t what she’d meant when she’d wanted him to find another chore. This was… She leaned closer. This was… The air seemed to vibrate between them. Those brown eyes were locked on hers, watching, waiting, wanting. This was—is—right.
Her mouth brushed those lips she’d been dreaming for days of kissing. Brushing her mouth over Cam’s wasn’t enough. Hunger gripped her. Thankfully Cam began kissing her properly, hard and soft, demanding and giving. Knee-buckling sensations tore through her like wildfire. Heat rose to warm her face. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on for dear life, kissing him back as hard and soft, as demanding and giving as he kissed her. His mouth was hot, hot, hot. His hands on her waist were hot. His chest pressing against her breasts was hard and hot.
And lower down something else seemed to be heating up, too, definitely hardening if that bulge pushing into her stomach was anything to go by. How did two mouths touching cause wild reactions south of their waists? Because right in her centre that heat had turned molten, setting her muscles to squeezing and her hormones dancing.
‘Yuck, they’re kissing.’
‘Don’t look. That’s gross.’
Cam set her back from him so fast it took a moment to regain her equilibrium. Marcus and Andrew. Oh, hell. Now they’d blown it. What were the boys going to think about this? A quick look at Cam told her he already regretted coming near her. The heat suffusing her body rapidly chilled down to cool. Great. She’d definitely be packing her bag now. Hopefully Cam would wait until the morning before kicking her out on the street.
‘Marcus, Andrew, where’s your homework?’ Cam sounded like he was in control of his emotions.
Too in control. Like that kiss hadn’t affected him one little bit. But he had been reacting to her as though he wanted her. Or had it been that long for him as it had for her that his body had just woken up all by itself?
‘Do we have to do it?’
‘There’s that swimming competition tomorrow.’
‘Go and get it. Now,’ Cam snapped.
Jenny snatched up the dishcloth and began wiping down the bench. The sooner the kitchen was cleaned up the sooner she could escape to her room and close the door on this monumental error she and Cam had made. Yes, Cam had a lot to answer for. She hadn’t started the kiss, couldn’t take all the responsibility for their actions. But one quick peek at his face and she knew she’d better make herself scarce. For now at least.
*
Cameron watched Jenny from where he supervised the boys’ homework. Her shoulders were tense as she swiped at the bench with the cloth. But just when he thought she was going to spit the dummy out a tiny smile widened that delicious mouth and lifted the corners. So she had enjoyed their stolen kiss. Damn the boys for their interruption. Then again, thank goodness they had burst into the room, otherwise who knew where kissing Jenny might’ve led? Apart from down the hall to his bedroom, that was. Except those boys were the very reason why it had had to stop when it had. Damn it again.
Note to self: find a time and place where there are no boys so he could repeat that kiss with the hottest woman he’d had the pleasure of knowing.
Note to self: do it soon.
CHAPTER NINE
THE SWIMMING RACES were hilarious to watch. Boys and girls everywhere looked excited and terrified and determined to do well in
their events.
Jenny waved. ‘Good luck, Marcus. Good luck, Andrew.’
They waved back. Cam gave them the thumbs-up. ‘Give it your best shot, guys.’ Then, in an aside, he said, ‘If only they weren’t in the same race. They’ll be arguing about the result for days. Marcus swims like a fish while Andrew’s more like a concrete block.’
‘You haven’t tried asking the teacher to separate them?’ Hard to believe none of last night’s tension had carried over into today. They’d both got up in a great frame of mind, preparing the boys for the swimming and strolling down the main road to the school as though they did it every day.
‘On many occasions. Apparently I don’t know what I’m talking about.’
Jenny nudged him with an elbow. ‘Look at them poised ready to leap in. Like pros they are.’ If only she and Cam did do this every day. Not the swimming but taking the boys to school and sharing whatever they were into.
‘They watch too much sport on TV, that’s what.’ Cam’s gaze was fixed on his boys.
Say what he liked, Jenny felt sure that was pride swelling his chest. A muscular chest that she’d love nothing more than to run her fingers all over, and tease those nipples till he groaned with need. She definitely had to catch the eleven o’clock bus to Blenheim on Monday. Or should she go back to Nelson and wait out the days till it was time to visit Kahurangi?
‘On your marks.’ A whistle sounded. The kids were off, some leaping into the water, others belly-flopping, and then there was Marcus. He dived, not neatly but it was a dive.
Jenny grinned. ‘Go, Marcus. You’re one cool kid.’ Hell, her chest was swelling with something like pride. ‘Where’s Andrew?’ It was hard to see him amongst the splashes and mini-waves made by the various swimming styles.
‘Five metres down his lane. The one with the arms like a windmill having hiccups.’
Andrew might have the most ungainly technique and his legs might be closer to the bottom of the pool than the surface of the water but he was making progress. ‘Go, Andrew. Come on, you can do it.’ Jenny leapt up and down on her good foot, her hands above her head, waving at him. ‘You, too, Marcus. What a champ. You’re winning.’ Of course, neither of them could see or hear her but she didn’t care. This was exciting.