Read Online Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) by A. M. Hargrove - Free Book Online Page A

kitchen.”
    I
follow her through the house and take a seat at the counter.
    “White
or red?”
    “Your
choice.” This is a test. I want to find out what her taste in wine is. And I’m
pleasantly surprised as she pours me a fine glass of Shiraz. “Very nice.”
    A
smile momentarily brightens her face and I’m struck at how it alters her
appearance. But it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
    “What’s
for dinner?”
    “I
thought I’d grill up some freshly caught seafood. I hope you’re a fan?”
    “Yeah,
absolutely.”
    “Great.
When I went to the local seafood market, they just got some wahoo in. So we’ll
have that, along with some stir fried vegetables and a side of pasta. How does
that sound?”
    “Excellent.
Do you cook much?”
    She
grimaces and her tone flattens. “No. I, uh, enjoy it, but don’t bother
much.”  
    “At
least you know how. I’m hopelessly lost in a kitchen.” There is a bowl of
chopped vegetables on the island, which I assume she’ll stir-fry later. A pot
is already on the stove and she has the fish on the island, seasoned and ready
to be cooked.
    “Let
me stick the fish back in the fridge and I can show you the furnishings so you
can start assessing what you may or may not be interested in.” She walks to a
drawer and pulls out a pad and pen.
    We
meander through each room and she flags what she wants. Then she tells me
everything else is open season for me. Her daughter’s room is off limits. I
wouldn’t want anything in there anyway; it’s all furniture for a little kid.
What the hell would I do with that?
    “Jot
down what you’re interested in. Everything else will have to be sold at
auction.” Her hand massages her forehead and I can’t help but notice her long,
graceful fingers. She’s tall for a woman. My guess is she’s close to six
feet—maybe five feet ten. I’m about six three and she can almost look me
in the eye. Almost. And I hadn’t noticed before because of those damn frumpy
clothes of hers, but she’s elegant. It’s the way she glides, and her long, lean
lines. It piques my curiosity. I wonder what she would look like made over. Her
dark blond hair is long and frizzy, but perhaps with some brushing and styling
it could actually look halfway decent. Gray eyes stare at me. They are clear
and pale. She’s caught me sizing her up.
    “I’ll
let you know exactly what I want.”
    She
leaves the room and I watch her go. God, that outfit. Could it possibly be any
uglier? I need to clear my mind and decide what, if anything, I want to buy
here. There are a lot of things to choose from. It takes longer than I expect,
and I only make it through half of the house when she calls me to eat.
    She’s
set the table in the kitchen and I seat her.
    “I
hope this is to your liking.”
    “Carter,
I’m not picky and it looks delicious.” And it does. The fish is grilled with a
dusting of seasonings on it and the vegetables look crisp and fresh. The pasta
is served with a basil pesto; my stomach growls in response to the aroma of it
all. She laughs a little and when she does, she looks passably attractive. Or
maybe it’s only wishful thinking on my part.
    My
fork pierces the fish and I taste it. “Oh, hell. This is excellent. What did
you call this?”
    She
laughs again and it brightens her whole face. I wasn’t imagining it earlier.
There is a hidden gem beneath her distasteful attire and taste in eye glasses.
“It’s wahoo. It’s caught locally.”
    “I’ve
never had it before but this won’t be my last time.”
    “It’s
one of my favorites.”
    Mine
too, obviously, as I inhale it.
    “Had
I known you were going to like it this much, I would’ve bought more.”
    I
look at my plate and then hers. And I laugh. “Carter, you must think I am deprived
of food, the way I wolfed that down.”
    “Actually,
no. Maybe it’s my exquisite culinary talent that has you so smitten.”
    “I’m
sure that’s it.” The rest of the meal is equally as good,