Free Retreat to Love by Melanie Greene Page B

tour, though. Just feed them to the electric pig.”
    “The what now?”
    I stifled a yawn in my collarbone before looking up at him. “The disposal.”
    “God, you’ve gone all Texan on us again. Zach never did that.”
    “He says the only thing anyone ever asked him in California was why he didn’t have a Texas accent. So he dropped it all, just told people he was from a little town called Spring and they assumed it was off I-5 somewhere. But ever since he moved to Austin, he grew more of a drawl than ever.”
    “Doesn’t explain yours.”
    “The beer explains mine. Pure and simple.”
    Caleb smiled those crinkles again. “Well, it’s cute, you should drink more often.”
    “I’m glad you enjoy it. Damnation!” I shoved him away to wash the blood from my knuckles where I’d grated them. “You’re sure I can’t use a food processor?”
    “I’ll do it. You oil the skillet and put the sour cream and preserves into serving bowls.”
    “Yes, sir.” I didn’t mind his being in charge so much, but surely he considered me capable of doing more than menial kitchen jobs. My silence was resentful enough to stop him issuing more orders until he had the first batch frying.
    “Ashlyn, would you mind watching these so I can finish up the fruit salad? Just flip them when the edges brown up a little.”
    “I’ve made potato pancakes before, Caleb.”
    “Oh. Sorry.”
    “I also mix up a damn good black bean burrito, a zesty western omelet, and my home-toasted granola will knock your socks off.”
    He stopped chopping to look at me. “Well, all your talk of sleeping in had me fooled. I had you pegged as a toasted bagel and out the door type.”
    “Breakfast is my main meal when I’m working. I don’t feel like going through a lot of trouble for lunch and big dinners for one are depressing, so I sleep late, make myself something yummy, and get to it. But the key is sleeping late.”
    “Well, remind me to give you a choice in what we make this week. Sorry if I’ve been a little pushy.”
    A little pushy? He’d been the most militant cook I’d ever met. I hoped Wren didn’t mind being submissive once in a while.
    As if summoned by my brain, she walked in, apparently scrubbed to freshness and vitality by her own morning shower. I would have snoop in her bathroom to see what product she used. “Morning, all!”
    Caleb turned to smile at her. “Hi. Sleep good?”
    She rose up onto her toes a moment. “Like a log.”
    “You seemed so tired.”
    I threw a questioning look Wren’s way. She just batted a hand at me as she reached for a coffee cup. “You all need any help?”
    “No, we’re fine.”
    “You can watch me set the table if you want.” I reached for a pile of plates and nudged her towards the dining room.
    Seeing my raised eyebrows, she shrugged. “It’s not what you’re thinking, unfortunately. He’s not alluding to anything.”
    “Well, did he walk you home?”
    She nodded. “But that was it. A little good night hug. We just kept talking about how sleepy we were after the big meal.”
    I glanced back through the transom to see if he was watching us. “It sounds good, though. He seemed pretty happy to see you this morning.”
    “I know!” She hid a giggle in her coffee cup. “I’m not saying I’m not encouraged.”
    Lizzy came in. “God, you’re really a couple of early birds, aren’t you?”
    I yawned again. “No, but the latke-miester in there runs a tight camp.”
    “I hope they’re as good as they smell. Brandon came up with pan-fried chicken and a side of canned green beans for us last night.”
    “Goddess, what did Angelica eat?” She was the other vegetarian, with Caleb and I. Which hadn’t stopped her from letting Theo make bacon or sausage every morning, of course.
    “I scrounged around and made her a rice pilaf to go with the beans. Had some of it myself, actually, and it was pretty tasty.”
    “I hope you’re willing to recreate it if he’s planning on serving