Swallowing hard, she set the book aside, careful to note the page number where she had left off. She wanted to know how the story ended. “Did you guys get the roof fixed?”
Looking at her a bit curiously—probably because he hadn’t seen her quite so easily startled before—Jeffrey nodded. “Scott showed me how to nail shingles without hitting my fingers with the hammer. He hit his thumb once, though. Hard. He said—”
“Never mind what I said,” Scott interrupted quickly and rather sheepishly. “I told you not to repeat it.”
Jeffrey flashed a creditable imitation of Scott’s wicked grin. “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
“Careful, kid—there’s still a woodshed out back,” Scott drawled in mock warning.
Jeffrey did not look notably cowed. “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”
“Whatever critter got caught in my trap. Have you ever skinned a coon before, Jeff?”
“We’re having raccoon for dinner? Eeww!”
“You don’t see a supermarket around here, do you? Out in the wilderness, we have to live off the land. Forage in the woods for anything edible. Depend on nature’s generosity for—”
“There’s a stew cooking in the kitchen,” Blair cut in mildly. “I found the ingredients in the freezer earlier. I thawed the meat in the microwave.”
Jeffrey relaxed. “I thought I smelled something cooking. I knew you were joshing me, Scott. We’re not eating raccoon.”
Scott lifted an eyebrow. “What kind of meat do you think your aunt found in the freezer?”
Looking nervous again, Jeffrey turned to her. “Aunt Blair...”
“Beef,” she assured him. “Neatly pa
ckaged and labeled.”
“You two have no culinary sense of adventure.”
Glancing once again at the book she’d been reading, Blair turned resolutely toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the food ready while you guys wash up.”
*
“HEY, BLAIR—this is really good,” Scott said a short while later.
She glanced up from her dinner. Their gazes met across the table and held. “You needn’t sound so surprised,” she said, hoping her teasing tone hid her suddenly renewed awareness of him.
He chuckled. “Sorry. I just didn’t know you brainy lawyer types could cook.”
Brainy lawyer types. Hardly a flattering description the way he said it. She was going to have to get her reactions to this man under control before she made a complete fool of herself. “Throwing together a quick stew hardly qualifies as gourmet cooking. But as it happens, I enjoy cooking, when I have time.”
“She makes good homemade pizza,” Jeffrey said offhandedly. “It’s my favorite.”
Blair blinked in surprise. Jeffrey always ate her pizza without comment. She hadn’t known he had a particular fondness for it. She promptly decided to serve it to him more often.
Scott reached for the iced tea she’d made to accompany the stew. “Homemade pizza, hmm? Sounds great. Maybe she’ll make it for me sometime.”
“Perhaps,” Blair murmured, though she seriously doubted she’d be cooking for Scott after this weekend ended.
Jeffrey polished off his stew. “What’s for dessert?”
“There are some cookies in the pantry,” Scott suggested. “They’re in that sealed plastic thing.”
“Cool.” Jeffrey carried his bowl to the sink, rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher—one of the amenities of this pleasantly “rustic” cabin.
Watching the boy’s actions, Scott murmured to Blair, “Well, at least you’re training him right.”