Chapter 11: Mocking Line

On Sunday morning Gideon knocked on the guest house door holding a paper bag and a pot of basil.

"My sister says pregnant women need protein," he said. "She texted it in capital letters."

"I haven't told your sister anything."

"I told her. In general terms. She wrote back, 'Feed that woman.'"

He had not slept either.

I could see it in the creases beside his eyes, and I stepped back to let him in.

Margo was out at the grounds, taking down the last of the stage.

The guest house kitchen was small, with one window over the sink and a table pushed against the wall.

Gideon unpacked eggs, bread, a block of cheese and a jar of peaches.

He cooked with his sleeves rolled up, and I sat on the counter because there was nowhere else to put myself.

"You can watch," he said. "I won't charge."

"You look like you've done this before."

"I have two nieces. I have burned a great many eggs."

He turned from the stove with a plate in his hand and found that I had moved.

I had slid off the counter to take it, and we stood closer than the kitchen allowed.

Neither of us stepped back.

His eyes dropped to my mouth and came up again, slowly.

The plate was still between us, and for a long moment he did not hand it over.

I could feel the heat coming off him, and I could hear a clock ticking somewhere in the house.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Her Husband's Favorite Guest from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.