Encore by Megan Mulry

Author:Megan Mulry [Mulry, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Megan Mulry

* * *

He kept looking at those beautiful fingers and the sinew along the back of her hands. Strong, confident, knowing. Gentle. If anyone could save him, it was this woman.

“Luke?” she paused, holding her messy hands, covered in fig and cheese and grease, slightly away from her. “What is it?”

“It’s you. It’s just you.” He came to her then and kissed the side of her neck and whispered, barely audible, “I love you, Ellie.”

She looked into his eyes to make sure he was okay. “So, the figs were a good choice?”

He shook his head and kissed her again on the cheek, then turned to the refrigerator to grab a beer. “Perfect. As usual.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I’ll settle for pretty good.”

“Fine. Pretty good. As usual.”

She smiled again and took a few more minutes to finish the figs then put the dish into the second wall oven, below the oven into which she’d already set the pork roast.

“Would you mind opening one of those bottles of Burgundy out in the garage fridge for me? I’ll take a glass and I want to put a little in the artichokes.”

She was back in the refrigerator pulling out a platter of baby artichokes that had been trimmed and cut into long pieces. They were glistening in a light glaze of olive oil and garlic, coarse salt and pepper.

“Here.” Luke handed her the opened bottle of wine.

She poured a generous splash of wine over the whole pan of artichokes, set the cool green bottle down on the white marble counter, then slipped the platter into the same oven with the figs.

She rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them on the cotton kitchen towel that hung from the drawer pull to her left.

“What else?” she asked herself aloud, then snapped her fingers. “The salad. Then I’m done.” She smiled at Luke as she walked past him again, then gave him a small wink.

She put together a salad of fresh mâche, slivered jicama, and carrots. She whisked together a lemon and mint dressing and set it aside to toss right before she served it.

“I think that does it. I also made these great little individual tarte tartins that are totally easy. I can put those in when I take the meat out. Want to go into the living room?”

It was a few minutes before seven.

“Ellie…”

She looked around the kitchen and toward the round table where they’d be eating to make sure everything was neat and ready. “What?” she asked absently.

“Ellie.”

She turned to really look at him then. “Yes?” She walked toward him and took the cool glass of wine that he held out for her, and put her other hand on his cheek, then she asked quietly, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I think I’m a little nervous.”

“Oh, honey. Why?”

“It’s so old and ingrained. I don’t know. It just seems awkward. I’m so happy to be here with you.”

“Me too,” she whispered, then kissed him softly on the lips. “You’re a really good person, too, you know.

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