Free Coming Home to Love (Lakeside Porch Series Book 2) by Katie O'Boyle Page A

with Manda.”
    “Are you kidding? I’m thrilled you’re joining the fun. Listen, I hope the shortbread cookies weren’t super important?”
    Gianessa cleaned the layer of flour off the counter. “Justin and I will just have to make do without shortbread with our coffee tomorrow.”
    “You were making these for Justin Cushman?”
    “It was a stupid idea.”
    “And you’re having coffee with him tomorrow?” Romance in progress?
    Gianessa carried the flour-coated sponge to the sink and turned on the water so hard it sprayed her T-shirt and jeans.
    Sara clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
    Gianessa glared at the faucet. “The man makes me completely crazy,” she muttered.
    Sara took pity on her. “Listen, why don’t I clean up here, and you take a nice relaxing bath? We’ll take turns doing laundry tonight. Sound good?”
    “Heavenly. I’d hug you if I weren’t dripping wet.”
    “Go. Soak. Relax.” So Justin Cushman is making her goofy ?
    At that moment, her usually graceful roommate tripped on the sill to the dining room.
    “Get it together, girl,” Gianessa said under her breath.
    She’s got it bad. Baking cookies didn’t go with a casual cup of coffee at Starbucks. What are they cooking up?
    “Poached salmon with dill, roasted red potatoes—with your rosemary and fennel—and a salad of field greens and beets tossed in a lemon vinaigrette.” Justin stopped reading his menu and fiddled with the pencil.
    “I like it, Justin.” Gianessa beamed a smile. “And it’s all gluten-free. Let’s get to it.”
    Justin set aside the pencil and posted the menu on an upper cabinet. “I’ll start the poaching liquid,” he proposed. “You work your magic with the fennel and rosemary. Let’s make the vinaigrette together so I can learn.”
    “It’s a plan.”
    Justin removed items from the refrigerator—one brown-paper-wrapped salmon, one sprig of fresh thyme, assorted dried spices, one sweet onion, one fresh lemon—and lined them up on the counter beside Gianessa’s fennel bulb and rosemary. He turned to find Gianessa squatting next to a cabinet with the door wide open. “What do you need?”
    “Fish poacher.” Her voice echoed into the cabinet.
    When she moved to the next cabinet, her skirt hiked up showing plenty of thigh. Justin enjoyed the view.
    “Pop taught me everything I know about cooking. He loved poaching a chicken on the stovetop in a big pot, big enough to hold the whole bird without cutting it into pieces. Good for Sunday dinner, a jug of soup, and sandwiches for the week. There it is.” She wrestled the elongated poaching pan from the back of the cabinet and handed it up to him. “Mauviel.”
    “Which is?”
    “French. A respected name in copper cookware, very exclusive.” She stood up and tugged her short skirt back into place.
    Justin watched the procedure.
    Gianessa flashed a smile. “You’re not too ill to enjoy a little leg.”
    He examined the Mauviel copper pot. “Very impressive,” he said, without admitting he meant her legs. He raised his eyebrows at her.
    She smiled her thanks and got back to business. “Time to unwrap our salmon. Do you want the honors?”
    Justin wrinkled his nose.
    “Tell me you didn’t buy a whole fish—scales, head, eyes, and all?”
    “Not intentionally.”
    She unwrapped the brown paper to find a perfectly prepared slab of pink flesh. “ Magnifique ! Justin, you chose well.”
    “I take no credit. I asked the fish department for a magnificent salmon for poaching, one that would impress my cooking teacher.”
    She threw up her hands in celebration. “And they don’t even know me!”
    He laughed and saw a knowing look come over her face. “You schemer! You know perfectly well how to cook, don’t you?”
    “Do I?”
    “Justin Cushman, you bought a perfect salmon and assembled every ingredient I could ever want for poaching liquid—thyme, bay leaf, clove, onion, and lemon—without a single hint from me.”
    Justin