She shrugged. “No, it doesn’t. When you cook, you know what you’re putting into your food. You know what, I don’t hold a grudge. I will teach you.”
“You don’t hold a grudge?”
“Nope, it’s why you’re in my house.” She pointed around her. “And why you got to cook for me last week.”
“So, why did I get the drink to the face when we first moved in?”
“You were rude and you deserved it.”
“I …telling a woman she has a nice ass is rude?” he asked and winced. “Scrap that. Don’t answer that.”
“Why? Shocked to tell the fat girl you hated in high school she has a nice, juicy ass?” She tilted her head to the side.
Shame washed over Hector. “Er, I didn’t hate you in high school.”
“Please, don’t try to play that card with me. We both know that is not true. You hated me.”
“I didn’t hate you.”
****
Verity didn’t want to go down the negative road of the past. She had long learned not to dwell on it. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m going to teach you how to cook. What schedule would suit you?”
She was open to anything right now. Teaching Hector might be the inspiration she needed to kickstart this cookbook again. Nothing else was working. Sitting out in the yard, going for long walks, wandering around a supermarket, looking at ingredients. She was … struggling.
Even Cutie wasn’t helping.
Speaking of her dog—she usually hated strangers, but Cutie had wandered into the kitchen to nuzzle at Hector’s legs.
“Well, aren’t you the cutest thing,” he said.
“See, Cutie.”
“Can I hold her?”
“If you don’t mind being licked.”
“I don’t mind that at all. Depending on the woman doing the licking.”
“Gross,” Verity said.
“Or super sexy.” He winked at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh. This was … bad. Hector wasn’t a guy she wanted to laugh with or enjoy stolen moments.
He’d been a cruel asshole back then. Handsome and sexy as most jocks were. He could have any girl he wanted, and from the rumors running around the school, he often did.
She never got involved with gossip. She was also one of the few girls who had found him utterly repulsive. It probably helped that he’d called her names and had done the usual crap bullies did.
Shoving her.
Pushing her books so they spilled onto the floor.
Saying bad shit about her.
Still, she couldn’t believe that they had somehow managed to come to the same town and now lived as neighbors. It was crazy. What were the odds?
He was still sexy. Probably even more so because age had served him well so far.
“So, I guess, this is now up to you. How often do you want to learn?” She was open for anything.
“How about every single day?” he asked. “I’m on … vacation right now. I don’t need to worry about work. You’re working from home, so can we start with things like breakfast and work our way up to dinner every day?”
“You want to spend that much time learning?” she asked, a little astounded.
“Why not? I’ve got to learn sometime.” He shrugged. “Why not start now with a trained chef?”
“I’m not trained.”
“You’re not?”
“No, so please don’t be under any impression I know what I’m doing on a professional level. I don’t. Cooking is just, it’s part of who I am. I love being in the kitchen, and I’m pretty much self-taught. Trust me, I dropped out of culinary school within months of starting there.”
“Then I’m good with that.”
“If you want to learn from a professional?”
“No, I don’t want to, at all. Believe me. I imagine a professional would have threatened me with the butcher’s knife with what I did to that tofu. You’re going to be a good teacher.”
“How can you know that?” she asked.
“I’m good at knowing these things.” He winked at her.
She rolled her eyes.
“Where do we begin, teach?” Hector asked.
“I guess we’re going to have to start at your house,” Verity said, rounding the counter and taking her dog from him. “Lead the way. I need to see where we have to start from.”
He looked a little put out that she’d taken her dog. Cutie was more than happy though. She hadn’t lost her dog to Hector’s wiles. She was so pleased.
Kissing her dog, she followed Hector around to his place. She wanted to pinch herself that she was willing to go next door.
Don’t hold grudges.
It was what her mother always advised.
Grudges were toxic. They made people do stupid shit, and she wasn’t like that.
I miss you, Mom.
Standing in Hector’s kitchen as he opened the fridge, freezer, and cupboards, Verity was shocked. “What happened to the food you bought?” she asked.
“I had to throw it out. It went bad and started to smell.”
“Hector, you have milk in your fridge, beer, and nothing else.”
“I know.” He pushed the fridge closed. “I have all of these.”