Not Just The Girl Next Door. Stacy Connelly
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hardly considered herself any kind of gourmet chef, but she did like to eat. She also liked to cook, especially if it meant cooking for Zeke.
Though if there was any truth to the old adage the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, Zeke would have fallen for her back when she was in the eighth grade and he ate all the cookies she’d made for a bake sale.
“You can’t tell me you don’t have some mouth-watering meal already started.”
“I may have thrown the ingredients for chili into the slow cooker before I left this morning.”
His gaze narrowed. “What kind of chili?”
Mollie rolled her eyes. “Tofu,” she said. “What do you think?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “I think you’d better be lying.”
“It’s ground sirloin.” Though she did occasionally like to switch things up with a white chicken chili or ground turkey, she knew better than to lean too far in the healthy food direction.
Zeke had complained more than once that the tall, model-thin women he dated in Raleigh loved dressing up and going out to dinner and yet refused to order anything more than a small salad and ridiculously priced bottled water. He swore he broke up with his last girlfriend after she invited him over for pizza and then served vegetable toppings and soy cheese on a cauliflower crust.
He didn’t have to worry about that with Mollie on any score. She hated cauliflower and loved thick-crust pepperoni pizza covered in mozzarella. She was not tall, she was not thin and no one would mistake her for a model.
All of which made her perfect for Zeke. The perfect buddy, that was.
Mollie swallowed a sigh as she stomped up the expertly crafted steps and led the way into the kitchen. She was greeted by the smell of slow-cooking beef, onions and garlic, and by the exuberant head to tail wagging of her black-and-tan coonhound.
“Hey, baby girl! I missed you, too.” Mollie reached down to run her hands over the dog’s floppy ears. After the initial greeting, Arti immediately set about sniffing every inch of her denim jeans. By the time the dog was finished, Mollie was certain the hound had figured out every person she’d talked to and every dog she’d stopped to pet in the hours since she’d been gone from the house.
Fortunately, Arti was not the jealous type. Mollie only wished she could say the same when Zeke bent down to say hello and her dog had the fantasy-inspiring pleasure of throwing herself against that broad chest, nuzzling his neck and even stealing a quick kiss.
“Crazy dog!”
Of course, Zeke’s laughter as he pushed Arti away and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand was very much the response Mollie anticipated if she ever acted on that fantasy.
Crazy Mollie...
Zeke had been over for dinner at her house often enough that she didn’t need to tell him where to find the soup bowls, glasses or spoons. They moved around each other in the small space with Mollie ducking beneath his arm as he reached into an upper cabinet, sidestepping his broad form as she pulled the toppings from the refrigerator and swatting his hand when he tried to sample a bite of chili straight off the wooden spoon.
It was all so easy and natural, and Mollie had years of experience ignoring the delicious shiver that raced through her body at the incidental touches—the brush of her arm against his chest, the warmth of his hand at her shoulder as he leaned close to inhale the spicy aroma of the simmering chili.
“That smells amazing,” he complimented her, and Mollie couldn’t help thinking the same thing—about Zeke.
She wanted nothing more than to turn in the circle of his arms and breathe him in. To soak in the warm and spicy scent of his aftershave combined with summer sunshine and cedar. To have him look at her the way, well, the way he was currently looking at her chili. Like he wanted to eat her up with a spoon.
“Just one bite?” he cajoled. “Please...”
His warm breath teased her ear, and a shiver ran down her spine. With her legs as weak as if she’d just completed a five-mile run through the mountains with Arti, it was all Mollie could do not to melt into a puddle at his feet.
Instead, she gave him a playful jab in the ribs with her elbow. “Finish setting the table and pour our drinks, would you? I might work with animals, but we’re going to sit down and eat like civilized people.”
Her parents had never been pet friendly, and when she had announced she wanted to train dogs as a profession, they’d reacted as though she’d announced she planned to don animal skins, eat raw meat and live in the wild. Maybe running around with a bunch of dogs and having a layer of dog hair—and occasionally doggie drool—covering her clothes was not the most glamorous of careers. But she was good at training dogs.
Zeke’s low chuckle, though, only served as another challenge to just how uncivilized Mollie was feeling at the moment. Fortunately, he backed away before she could make a total fool out of herself.
Shoring up her trembling legs, she carried the pot of chili over to the oak table and set it amid the bowls of sour cream, green onions, shredded cheese and sliced jalapeños.
After digging into the chili like he hadn’t had a good meal in ages, Zeke asked, “How are the repairs going at the shelter?”
“Already underway, thanks to the money made at the fund-raiser last month.” Mollie had operated a booth at the event, promoting her own business as well as bringing attention to the shelter and its needs. Zeke had volunteered, as well, helping her set up and drawing a fair share of female attention to the booth.
“And the Whitaker sisters told me that Rebekah Taylor, the new shelter director, has applied for a grant, not only for repairs but also for expanding the shelter.”
“That must be a challenge, to start a new job while the shelter is undergoing construction repairs.”
Mollie nodded. “I would think so, but if the grant comes through, the tornado might just end up a blessing in disguise.”
She looked up in time to find Zeke watching her with a hint of an amused smile on his handsome face. “What?” she asked defensively, glancing down at her T-shirt to make sure she hadn’t somehow ended up with half her dinner dribbled down the front. No chili stains, but Mollie winced a little at the muddy paw prints she’d failed to notice earlier.
Great, just great.
“Only you would find a silver lining in a tornado.”
Heat bloomed in Mollie’s cheeks. Growing up, her parents had often warned her about the folly of viewing the world through rose-colored glasses. “You think I’m naive.”
Zeke shook his head. “I think you’re amazing. Chief and Charlie are the luckiest dogs in the world to have you in their corner.”
The words took Mollie’s breath away. “Zeke...that’s—” She had to clear the emotional lump in her throat before finishing in a rush. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It’s true.” Reaching out, he grasped her hand in his as he gazed into her eyes.
And even though they had touched thousands of times in the years they had known each other—everything from teasing shoves and friendly hugs to clinging to each other beside her brother’s grave—this felt different.
Suddenly everything felt different.
She could feel the warmth from Zeke’s hand radiating up her arm and leaving a delicious trail of goose bumps in its wake. She could hear every beat of her heart, every bated breath she took, magnified in her head. Zeke’s hazel eyes had never seemed so rich, so warm.
“It hit me out in the backyard earlier...”
“It did?” The words escaped in a Minnie