Free The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) by Elena Aitken

cleaning up the mess while she’d been focused on butchering the carrots. “You cleaned? I didn’t even notice. Thank you.”
    “Well, you were pretty busy with those carrots,” Reid said with a laugh. “It’s no big deal. I’m glad to help.” He held her gaze for a second before looking away. “So, we should probably get started with the sauce. I’m assuming because of the shrimp, you were trying to make some sort of steak Oscar dish?”
    Whitney nodded.  
    “How do you feel about crab meat instead?” Reid asked. He produced a can of crab meat he’d found in the cupboard. “I know it’s not fresh, but…”
    “It’s perfect. I didn’t know I had that. It must have been Grams’. She really did all the cooking.”
    “You don’t say?” Whitney swatted him with the dish towel she’d been wiping her hands with, but didn’t say anything. Reid was pretty sure he’d detected the hint of a smile. An honest smile. Maybe it wouldn’t take as long for Whitney to warm up to the idea of being roommates after all. “Don’t worry, Whitney,” he said. “I promise to teach you to cook.”
    Her mouth pressed into a hard line and Reid instantly regretted pushing too hard.  
    “I need to make the sauce,” she said, and turned toward the pile of ingredients on the counter.  
    “Right.” It was clear that despite a light moment, she still wasn’t ready to welcome him with open arms. “Have you made hollandaise before?”  
    He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but when Whitney nodded and told him she had, he was genuinely shocked, especially when he watched her crack three eggs directly into a saucepan without separating the yolk. “Okay,” Reid said. “Then I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
    Whitney looked up from her task and for a moment Reid thought he might have seen a look of panic flash across her face, but it was gone so fast he couldn’t be sure. “Remember you need to be gone by seven,” she said.  
    Gone? Crap. He’d forgotten he was supposed to leave. “Right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “About that. The thing is—” He broke off as Whitney cracked the third egg in with the others and began mixing it with a wooden spoon. “What are you doing?”
    She shot him a look of irritation. “I’m making hollandaise.”  
    He moved to the counter, grabbed a metal whisk from the vase that held various kitchen implements, and gently took the bowl from her hands. “May I?”  
    She put her hands on her hips but didn’t protest.  
    Reid swiftly dumped the contents of the saucepan in the sink and grabbed the package of eggs. “The problem is,” he said as he deftly cracked an egg and separated it into two parts, “that you only need the yolks to create a rich sauce.” He continued the process with two other eggs and put the pan over low heat. “Can you melt that butter in the microwave?”
    Whitney surprised Reid by doing as he requested without an argument. When it was ready, Reid took the bowl from her and slowly started pouring the butter into the eggs that were heating on the stove. “This is the tricky part,” he said. “You have to add it really slowly and never stop whisking or it will separate.” He put the butter down and handed her the whisk. “You try.”  
    Whitney took the whisk and picked up the butter. “I don’t know if I’m coordinated enough to do both,” she said.
    Reid reached around her and held the saucepan while he placed the other hand over hers on the whisk to help her. He felt her tense briefly at their closeness, but then, occupied with the task of whisking, she relaxed. “See,” he said, trying not to inhale the sweet smell of her shampoo, “you’re doing great. Just keep going. Really slowly.”
    “How’s it look?” Whitney glanced up, over her shoulder and their eyes connected.  
    “It looks pretty cozy to me,” said the voice behind them.  

    ***

    I flung around so fast, hollandaise droplets flew from the whisk in my hand