Free Agent (Texas Titans #6) by Cheryl Douglas

Author:Cheryl Douglas [Douglas, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cheryl Douglas

***

Sabrina was hopeless in the kitchen, but when Dylan texted to tell her he’d be home by six, she’d felt compelled to leave the office early and stop at the grocery store for the ingredients for a simple beef stew recipe online reviewers claimed was fool-proof. She hoped they were right. Since Dylan was a meat and potatoes guy, she thought he’d like it, and it seemed as though all she had to do was chop the meat, vegetables, and potatoes, toss it all in a pot, add broth, a thickening agent, and seasoning. That didn’t sound too hard.

But when she tried a spoonful, it was watery and bland. She was trying to regroup, racking her brain to figure out how to make it more flavorful, when she heard the front door. Great, now Dylan will think I can’t even follow a simple recipe. She’d so wanted to impress him… and make him feel at home.

“Hey, Sabrina, you home?” he called, walking toward the kitchen. He set his overnight bag on the kitchen floor. “There you are. Your car in the garage?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina couldn’t even look at him. She was too embarrassed about the mess she’d made of dinner.

“What’s that?” he asked, coming up behind her. “It smells good, but since when do you cook?”

“I don’t cook,” she said, slamming the spoon on the counter. “And there’s a very good reason—I can’t. Every time I try, I manage to screw it up!” She didn’t know why she was on the verge of tears over a stupid stew. But it was more than that. She hated the distance between them. Before, when he’d come home from a business trip, she’d meet him at the door and wrap her arms and legs around him while they kissed their way down the hall to the bedroom. This time, he hadn’t even tried to touch her.

“Hey, relax,” he said, stroking her back. “It’s nothing we can’t fix. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too watery,” she said, crossing her arms. “And bland. It takes like dishwater.”

Dylan laughed as he reached for the seasonings, nudging her out of the way. “How would you know? Have you ever tasted dishwater?”

She gasped when she saw the scrapes on his knuckles. “What the hell happened to you?” She reached for his hands when he didn’t answer her. “Were you in a fight?” Judging by the fact he didn’t have a mark on his face, it must have been pretty one-sided.

“I guess you could call it that.” He withdrew his hands and reached for the wooden spoon. “It was no big deal. Really.”

“You went to see Bell, didn’t you?” She gripped his shoulder when his blank expression gave away nothing. “Damn it, Dylan, answer me. Did you go see him?”

“Yes.”

She let air seep through her teeth. “Why did you do that? My father already went to see him. It didn’t do a damn bit of good.”

“Yeah, well, your father’s approach may have been a bit different than mine.” His lips tipped up

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