Savor the Moment
Page 48
“I am, but it’s still a good question.”
“I guess it is,” Laurel admitted. “I’ve never loved anyone but him. Knowing I’ve got all this in me for him, and only being sure he cares. Cares a lot, but there’s such a big difference between cares a lot and loves. It’s scary, which is the way I’m told it’s supposed to be, but that doesn’t make it less scary.”
“He’d never hurt you. And that’s the wrong thing to say,” Parker realized immediately. “Don’t you want him to know you’ve got all that in you for him?”
“Can’t. Because he’d never hurt me, and he’d try so hard not to.”
“Which would hurt more.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m doing my best to just stay in the moment. I think it’s working. Most of the time. Still, I can’t help looking for the trapdoors and trip wires.” And pianos over my head, she thought.
“Sensible advice back at you. Sometimes you look for the trapdoor and run into a wall instead.”
“I wish I didn’t know you were right. Okay.” Laurel waved her hands as if clearing a board. “I’m in the moment. I’m practically Zen.”
“Stay that way I’m going to call Mac and get things set up for later. Six okay?”
“Six is perfect.”
Parker stood up, then blew out a breath. “Give me just a taste of that, will you? It’s cruelty otherwise.”
Laurel got a spoon, dipped it into the warm cream, then offered.
“Oh God.” Parker closed her eyes. “It was worth every whisk. Shit!” she muttered as her phone rang.
“Do you ever think about just not answering?”
“Yes, but I’m not a coward.” She checked the readout as she walked out of the kitchen. “This is Parker at Vows. How are you, Mrs. Winthrop?”
Parker’s voice had barely faded away when Del came in from the other direction.
“Well, this is a popular spot today.”
“Why have I never noticed how sexy you look in an apron?” He leaned down to kiss her—but she saw his move toward the bowl of cream and slapped his hand away.
“Do you want to get me in trouble with the board of health?”
“I don’t see any agents around here.”
She got out a spoon, gave him the same taste as she’d given Parker.
“Good. Really good.You taste better.”
“Very smooth, but that’s all you get.” She moved the bowl out of reach. “I thought you were going to the game with your little pals.”
“I am. I’m meeting up with Jack and Carter here, then we’re swinging by to pick up Mal.”
“You’re taking a limo to the ball game again.” It was, she thought, so absolutely Del.
“What’s wrong with taking a limo to the game? That way you can have beer, not worry about parking or the frustration of traffic. It’s a pure win.”
“I should’ve made this a silver spoon,” she said, and took the spoon from him to put it in the sink.
“Just for that I might not give you your present.”
Both intrigued and suspicious, she turned. “What present?” He opened his briefcase, took out a box. “This present. But you may be too much of a smart-ass to deserve it.”
“Smart-asses need presents, too. Why did you get me a present?”
“Because you need it, smart-ass.” He handed it to her. “Open it.”
She admired the Wonder Woman wrapping and big red bow before ruthlessly tearing them off. Then she frowned at the picture on the box. It looked like some sort of handheld computer or oversized recorder. “What is it?”
“A time-saver. Here. I set it up already.” He opened the box, took out the device with a gleam in his eye that told her the gift was something he wanted for himself.
“Instead of writing out lists,” he told her, “you do this. Push Record.” He did so, then said eggs. “See?” He turned it around to show her the word eggs on a little display screen. “Then you push the Select button, and it’s on the list.”
Okay, she thought, he’d caught her interest. “What list?”
“The list you’ll have when you’re finished and push this.” He tapped another button. “It prints it out, and better yet, arranges the items in categories. Like, you know, dairy or condiments, whatever.”
Her serious interest. “Get out. How?”
“I don’t know how. Maybe there’s someone in there arranging. And it has this library feature, so you can add specialized items it wouldn’t have in there already. You use a lot of unusual ingredients.”
“Let me try it.” She took it, pressed Record. “Vanilla beans.” Her lips pursed as she read the display. “It says vanilla pudding.”
“It probably doesn’t have vanilla beans in the library because most people just buy the bottled stuff.”
“True. But I can put it in?”
“Yeah, then it’ll get it next time. And you can put in the quantities. Like three dozen eggs, or however many vanilla beans you’d buy. Are they actual beans?”
“They come in a pod,” she murmured, studying her gift. “You bought me a kitchen recorder lister thing.”
“I did. It’s magnetic, so you can put it up on the side of one of your coolers, or wherever it works for you.”
“Most guys go with flowers.”
She clearly saw the hitch that put in his stride.
“Do you want flowers?”
“No. I want this. A whole bunch. It’s a really great present.” She looked up at him. “It’s a really great present, Del.”
“Good. Don’t be jealous, but I bought one for Mrs. G, too.”
“That slut.”
He grinned, kissed her again. “I need to run over and give it to her, then get going or I’m going to be late.”
“Del,” she said before he got to the door. He’d bought her a kitchen gadget, one both practical and fun. All that was in her for him wanted to say it, just tell him. I love you. Only three words, she thought, all just one syllable. But she couldn’t.
“Have a good time at the game.”
“Planning on it. Talk to you later.”
Sighing a little, she sat down to wait for the cream to cool, and played with her present.
“I guess it is,” Laurel admitted. “I’ve never loved anyone but him. Knowing I’ve got all this in me for him, and only being sure he cares. Cares a lot, but there’s such a big difference between cares a lot and loves. It’s scary, which is the way I’m told it’s supposed to be, but that doesn’t make it less scary.”
“He’d never hurt you. And that’s the wrong thing to say,” Parker realized immediately. “Don’t you want him to know you’ve got all that in you for him?”
“Can’t. Because he’d never hurt me, and he’d try so hard not to.”
“Which would hurt more.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m doing my best to just stay in the moment. I think it’s working. Most of the time. Still, I can’t help looking for the trapdoors and trip wires.” And pianos over my head, she thought.
“Sensible advice back at you. Sometimes you look for the trapdoor and run into a wall instead.”
“I wish I didn’t know you were right. Okay.” Laurel waved her hands as if clearing a board. “I’m in the moment. I’m practically Zen.”
“Stay that way I’m going to call Mac and get things set up for later. Six okay?”
“Six is perfect.”
Parker stood up, then blew out a breath. “Give me just a taste of that, will you? It’s cruelty otherwise.”
Laurel got a spoon, dipped it into the warm cream, then offered.
“Oh God.” Parker closed her eyes. “It was worth every whisk. Shit!” she muttered as her phone rang.
“Do you ever think about just not answering?”
“Yes, but I’m not a coward.” She checked the readout as she walked out of the kitchen. “This is Parker at Vows. How are you, Mrs. Winthrop?”
Parker’s voice had barely faded away when Del came in from the other direction.
“Well, this is a popular spot today.”
“Why have I never noticed how sexy you look in an apron?” He leaned down to kiss her—but she saw his move toward the bowl of cream and slapped his hand away.
“Do you want to get me in trouble with the board of health?”
“I don’t see any agents around here.”
She got out a spoon, gave him the same taste as she’d given Parker.
“Good. Really good.You taste better.”
“Very smooth, but that’s all you get.” She moved the bowl out of reach. “I thought you were going to the game with your little pals.”
“I am. I’m meeting up with Jack and Carter here, then we’re swinging by to pick up Mal.”
“You’re taking a limo to the ball game again.” It was, she thought, so absolutely Del.
“What’s wrong with taking a limo to the game? That way you can have beer, not worry about parking or the frustration of traffic. It’s a pure win.”
“I should’ve made this a silver spoon,” she said, and took the spoon from him to put it in the sink.
“Just for that I might not give you your present.”
Both intrigued and suspicious, she turned. “What present?” He opened his briefcase, took out a box. “This present. But you may be too much of a smart-ass to deserve it.”
“Smart-asses need presents, too. Why did you get me a present?”
“Because you need it, smart-ass.” He handed it to her. “Open it.”
She admired the Wonder Woman wrapping and big red bow before ruthlessly tearing them off. Then she frowned at the picture on the box. It looked like some sort of handheld computer or oversized recorder. “What is it?”
“A time-saver. Here. I set it up already.” He opened the box, took out the device with a gleam in his eye that told her the gift was something he wanted for himself.
“Instead of writing out lists,” he told her, “you do this. Push Record.” He did so, then said eggs. “See?” He turned it around to show her the word eggs on a little display screen. “Then you push the Select button, and it’s on the list.”
Okay, she thought, he’d caught her interest. “What list?”
“The list you’ll have when you’re finished and push this.” He tapped another button. “It prints it out, and better yet, arranges the items in categories. Like, you know, dairy or condiments, whatever.”
Her serious interest. “Get out. How?”
“I don’t know how. Maybe there’s someone in there arranging. And it has this library feature, so you can add specialized items it wouldn’t have in there already. You use a lot of unusual ingredients.”
“Let me try it.” She took it, pressed Record. “Vanilla beans.” Her lips pursed as she read the display. “It says vanilla pudding.”
“It probably doesn’t have vanilla beans in the library because most people just buy the bottled stuff.”
“True. But I can put it in?”
“Yeah, then it’ll get it next time. And you can put in the quantities. Like three dozen eggs, or however many vanilla beans you’d buy. Are they actual beans?”
“They come in a pod,” she murmured, studying her gift. “You bought me a kitchen recorder lister thing.”
“I did. It’s magnetic, so you can put it up on the side of one of your coolers, or wherever it works for you.”
“Most guys go with flowers.”
She clearly saw the hitch that put in his stride.
“Do you want flowers?”
“No. I want this. A whole bunch. It’s a really great present.” She looked up at him. “It’s a really great present, Del.”
“Good. Don’t be jealous, but I bought one for Mrs. G, too.”
“That slut.”
He grinned, kissed her again. “I need to run over and give it to her, then get going or I’m going to be late.”
“Del,” she said before he got to the door. He’d bought her a kitchen gadget, one both practical and fun. All that was in her for him wanted to say it, just tell him. I love you. Only three words, she thought, all just one syllable. But she couldn’t.
“Have a good time at the game.”
“Planning on it. Talk to you later.”
Sighing a little, she sat down to wait for the cream to cool, and played with her present.
