“Yes,” she said, just as coolly and calmly.
“The men are hungry.”
She nodded. His razor had missed one tiny spot on his jaw. The stubble looked—interesting. Idly, she wondered how it would feel against her skin.
For goodness’ sakes, Melissa!
“I said—”
The edge in his voice jolted her back to reality.
“The men are hungry,” she said. “Right. I’ll bet they are. What happened here?”
Gentry’s eyebrows rose. “Meaning what?”
“What do you mean, meaning what?”
“I mean, what do you mean by asking me what happened here?”
So much for him smelling and looking good. He was still the same idiot. Her cool and her calm were fast fading.
“Meaning, did somebody raid the kitchen and toss out all the food?”
He shrugged. “Had a grizzly do that up in a line shack, once, but not—”
“Perhaps whoever made breakfast and lunch today decided to try an experiment that involved using up everything edible.”
Everything edible? Nick looked at the table. Shit. Was that really all that the kitchen held? He’d hadn’t kept track of the foodstuffs, but—”
“One minute,” he snapped, and headed for the dining room.
Whispers. Raised voices. More whispers. Then he was back.
“Gus tells me that Hank—my pilot—was supposed to drop off some supplies, but with the weather coming in so fast…” There it was, that high-and-mighty look on her face again. He’d had about enough of that to last a lifetime, Nick decided, and offered a brittle smile. “You say you’re a chef.” He jerked his chin toward the worktable. “Improvise.”
Calm, Lissa told herself. Say nothing confrontational. Either he really is a dumb cowboy or he’s playing dumb. Either way, why get into a battle you can’t win?
“Ms. Wilde? You can improvise, can’t you?”
Stay calm, remember? Lissa flashed a glittery smile. She could hear whispers in the dining room.
“Certainly.”
“So, you’re going to get started on supper?”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Tell your men it’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I’ll tell them. Just keep in mind that they’re mighty hungry.”
Enough!
Lissa swung toward him.
“I know they’re hungry,” Lissa shouted. “In fact, I’m sure they’re hungry, so why don’t you tell them that if there’s nothing to eat in this effing house, it’s because their effing boss didn’t buy a
ny effing food!”
Brutus whined. The whispers in the dining room had stopped.