Forgetting all about the small meal he had just put together, Matt walked toward her. Taking one of her hands in his, he led her to the living room, where they sat on the couch. And then, in a move that surprised even him, he completely opened up and shared with her all of his fears for Dylan and how guilty he felt because now this meant the media spotlight was off him.
“That makes me a horrible person, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice gruff.
Vivienne shook her head. “No. It makes you human. Which is what I’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Are you sure? Because it pretty much feels like I’m a horrible person.”
She chuckled softly. “Again, it just means you’re a normal person. You have feelings, Matt, and remorse. If you were as selfish as you seem to think you are, it wouldn’t even occur to you to feel bad about being relieved.” She playfully nudged him with her shoulder. “There’s hope for you yet.”
He laughed. A real, honest laugh. “Maybe I should have you write some of my PR stuff—Matty Reed: There’s hope for him yet!”
Vivienne laughed with him and then shifted on the sofa to face him. “Okay, all kidding aside, what happens now? It sounds to me like you’re completely free to go and resume your normal life—move back to your own place and do your own thing. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“I’m waiting to hear back from Riley—or Mick. I’m not ready to jump back out there. This is a pretty serious situation, and I don’t want it to look like I’m using it as an excuse to get my life back.”
“I doubt anyone’s going to think that, Matt. But you also have to realize that just because Dylan is in the news, it doesn’t mean everyone will have forgotten about you and the show. Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle the questions and comments now?”
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But as you pointed out to me, I’m also not going to know by hiding out.”
She grimaced. “Look, that was completely insensitive of me. I never should have—”
He stopped her. “Viv, you were right. I guess it’s kind of been a while since anyone’s just been that blunt with me, and it sort of took me by surprise. I should have addressed the media scrutiny right from the start—maybe then they wouldn’t have started with the rumors and speculation. My publicist was doing everything she could to try and make things right and downplay it, but the reality is, I sucked.” He shrugged. “Cheryl could only do so much, but the proof was out there. I wasn’t good.”
“Matt—”
“The press was pretty blunt, I know,” he added quickly. “But it was different. I mean, the people around me aren’t normally like that. Everyone tries to find a nice way of saying things to soften the blow. Even Mick. He’s a hard-ass most of the time, but for all his gruff exterior, he still coddles us in his own way.”
He looked at Vivienne and saw she didn’t believe him. “It’s true.”
“If you say so.”
They sat for a moment in companionable silence before Matt stood. “I really am hungry,” he began, looking toward the kitchen. “I know it’s nothing gourmet or blog worthy, but you’re welcome to join me for a sandwich.”
Standing, Vivienne smiled. “Thanks, but I have some soup simmering next door.” She paused. “Why don’t you bring your sandwich over and you can try the soup.”
“What kind?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“A good one.”
He laughed out loud again. “That tells me it’s something I’m probably not going to want to try!”
She grinned at him. “Well…some people aren’t very adventurous.”
“I am very adventurous,” he replied, all teasing gone. His voice was gruff, serious, and he heard Vivienne’s soft intake of breath.
“I…I meant with food,” she said nervously.
Clearing his throat, Matt did his best to sound a little less intense. “I can do that too.”
She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then bit her bottom lip before responding. Matt almost groaned because she made even that simple gesture look sexy.
“It’s an autumn vegetable soup. It’s creamy, so you really don’t even see the specific vegetables, and then it’s topped with fried prosciutto. It’s crispy and makes a wonderful, savory topping.”
“Sort of like bacon,” he commented and smiled when she nodded, clearly pleased he understood what she was going for. “Okay, I’m game.”
“Really?”
Matt continued to smile at her, glad they were seemingly all right with one another. If she was still holding a grudge from the other night, there was no way she would have invited him to join her for lunch. He took this as a good sign.
Walking across the kitchen, he grabbed his sandwich and was about to wrap it up in a napkin, but then threw it in the trash.
“Matt!” Vivienne cried. “Why’d you do that?”
He shrugged. “There was no way I was going to insult your… What did you call it? Your autumn vegetable soup with that poor excuse for a sandwich. It just seemed wrong.” He strode toward her and opened the back door. “And I have a feeling you’re not just serving soup. I’m sure there’s going to be something to go with it.”
She blushed. “You don’t know that.”
He looked at her expectantly.
“Fine. I baked some whole-grain rolls and made a field greens salad with a honey balsamic dressing.” Then without another word, she walked out the door and started to make her way across the yard.
Matt hung back for a minute and watched her, unable to help the smile on his face. He was getting to know Vivienne more than he’d ever really known any other woman, and the more he learned and discovered about her, the more he found he genuinely liked her.
And while she may not have been willing to admit it just yet, Matt had a feeling she was starting to like him too.
* * *
Why, oh why, had she gone over and talked to him? Vivienne asked herself as she calmly walked across the yard. Why hadn’t she just called her brother and had Aaron check on Matt? She knew her initial instinct was to find out if Matt had heard the news about his bandmate and make sure he was all right. But as soon as she’d seen him, every pep talk she’d given herself about keeping her distance had been shot to hell. He’d looked…sad. Lost.
Alone.
She was playing with fire. She knew it, and yet there didn’t seem to be a way for her to keep her distance.
Without waiting for Matt to catch up, Vivienne walked into her house and went to work frying up the prosciutto and taking the rolls out of the warming oven.
“What can I do to help?”
She almost screamed when Matt spoke so closely behind her. He was seriously like a ninja because she never even heard him come in. When he chuckled, she glared at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” he said simply. “I’ve never met anyone who just completely zones out like you do. I think bombs could go off around you and you wouldn’t even notice. When you’re cooking, it’s like you’re in your own world.”
He had her there—she knew it was exactly what she did. Normally it was just her in the house, so it wasn’t a big deal, but if this was going to keep up and they were going to share meals, she was going to have to keep her head in the game and pay more attention to her surroundings.
“I kind of am,” she admitted. “I tend to get caught up in what I’m cooking and then looking at it while trying to imagine if it’s something I should be taking pictures of or if it’s something I can describe with just my words.” Looking down at the prosciutto—which was nearing the perfect level of crispiness—she quickly stepped around Matt and reached for her camera. Within seconds, she was clicking away. Then, just as quickly as she had started, she stopped.
“That was it?” he asked. “How many pictures did you tak
e?”
“It only takes a few. But I took about a dozen and I’ll look at them after lunch and decide if any of them will work.”
Matt shook his head and stepped aside, leaning against the counter to watch her. “So do you ever just, you know, eat?”
Vivienne looked over at him in confusion.
“I mean I know you eat, but do you just ever eat a normal meal? Like a burger or a sandwich? Or is every meal up for consideration for your blog?”
Nodding with understanding, she shut off the burner and moved around to start ladling the soup into bowls. “Oh, I totally just eat. You’ll never see my morning cereal on the blog.” She grinned at him before adding, “Cheerios.”
“Nothing gourmet about that,” he said with a chuckle.
“Exactly. Although every once in a while I’ll crave something with a little more substance and I’ve whipped up some truly beautiful omelets.” She stopped and winked playfully. “And those did make it onto the blog.”
With the efficiency she was known for, Vivienne sprinkled the crispy prosciutto over the soup and then carried the bowls over to the table before turning around to grab the rolls and salad. “There’s a small bowl of dressing in the refrigerator. Can you grab it for me?”
Matt did as she requested and joined her at the table.
Vivienne watched him stir the soup around for a minute. “It’s totally okay if you don’t like it. You look like you are definitely a heartier eater than this. You really should have brought your sandwich over with you.”
He immediately stopped stirring and gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m not going to lie to you, soup is not something I tend to gravitate toward, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to like it.” He looked down at the bowl. “It’s just very…orange.”
She laughed. “Well, yeah. What’s wrong with orange?”
He shrugged and began stirring again. “It’s just not a color I associate with soup. To me it’s normally more like a broth or a white, creamy consistency. This is just a little…” He stopped and dropped the spoon again. “It’s orange. And it’s not something I’m used to.”
Deciding not to take offense, Vivienne shifted in her chair and faced him a little more head-on. “Let me ask you something. Do you eat sweet potatoes?”
Matt nodded.
“Do you eat carrots?”
Another nod.
“So it’s not that you’re opposed to orange-colored foods,” she began logically, “just orange-colored soups.”
He frowned. “Well, when you say it like that, it seems a bit ridiculous.” Then he picked up his spoon and stirred again before lifting some to his lips. He stared at it before Vivienne reached out to stop him. “What? What did I do? I’m going to taste it.”
“If you could see the look on your face, you wouldn’t.” With her hand on his arm, she guided him until the spoon was back in the bowl. She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator. “I have some leftover ham in here and some Swiss cheese. I’ll make you a sandwich on one of the rolls. Do you like spicy brown mustard or do you prefer honey Dijon?”
“Holy shit,” Matt swore softly behind her.
Vivienne spun around. “What? What’s the matter?”
“This is freaking delicious!”
Leaning back against the refrigerator door, she watched in amazement as Matt took another spoonful of the soup. She couldn’t help but be pleased.
“The prosciutto is still crisp! How is that even possible?” Another spoonful. “It’s like the perfect consistency—not too thick, not too thin—and the flavors are amazing together!” He looked over at her, smiling. “Seriously, Viv. This is incredible. Seriously incredible.” Without waiting for her to respond, Matt reached across the table and grabbed one of the rolls and cut it open. “Do you have any butter?”
Grabbing the butter, she shut the refrigerator and walked back over to the table to join him. Wordlessly, she served their salads and then finally took a taste of her own soup. “Oh, that is good,” she said with a happy sigh. “I tasted it while it was cooking, but now with the prosciutto in there, it’s even better.”
When she looked up, Matt was already done with his. “Is there more?”
“Help yourself,” she said, feeling ridiculously proud of herself. “There’s more prosciutto in the pan to top it with.”
Within minutes, Matt was back at the table and digging into his second bowl. “Okay, I have a proposition for you.”
She almost choked on her food. After coughing and trying to catch her breath, she straightened and looked at him. “A proposition?” Part of her feared what he was referring to. She knew they hadn’t even remotely touched on the topic of the kiss—the one two years ago or the one from the other night—but that didn’t mean Matt wasn’t ready to bring it up now.
He nodded. “Aaron stocked the house with all kinds of foods for me, mostly stuff that’s prepackaged and requires little effort to heat up. It’s all fine and well, but…knowing you can cook like this, it’s kind of hard to work up any enthusiasm for a microwave meal.” He paused to take a couple of bites of his salad. “This dressing is amazing.”
Vivienne wasn’t sure if she could handle all the compliments—especially as he was speaking them with his mouth full of food—but she did appreciate his enthusiasm for her cooking.
Swallowing, he reached over and took a quick sip of the sweet tea she had put out before continuing. “I’d like to be your test subject.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Test subject?”
He nodded. “Seems to me like you do this blog stuff and it’s all simply your opinion. And while there’s nothing wrong with it, I think it could be interesting to almost make it a ‘he said, she said’ kind of thing. You know, get the guy’s perspective on some of these recipes.”
It was an interesting idea. Maybe they could…
“Take this soup, for instance,” he began. “If you were here alone and made this and took pictures and put it on your blog, chances are your readers, who are probably primarily female, would see it and think ooo, pretty and maybe make it. But…they would probably be wondering if the guys in their lives would want to eat some creamy orange…stuff.”
Vivienne rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I don’t think it would be quite like that.”
“Trust me. If I were out with a woman and she put this in front of me, I would have reacted exactly as you saw me react, only worse. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, and I was trying to be tactful.”
“That was you trying to be tactful?” she asked incredulously. “It was a little childish, getting squeamish because of the color of the food.”
He laughed and took another bite of his roll. “Okay, maybe. But I’m a guy, and I know how guys think. Most of us aren’t gourmets. We enjoy simple food—steaks, burgers, pizza.”
“Not all guys are like that!”
“Oh, I know, I know,” he quickly interjected. “But the majority are. So if you could say, or confirm, that this was the response of a guy who is not a gourmet—he loved it and went back for…” He stopped and looked at his bowl and then back at the pot on the stove. “Thirds, then you’ll know your readers are going to take that into consideration before they try this recipe.” He shrugged and reached for his glass. “It’s worth a shot.”
She considered him for a long moment. “So basically you get free food, you don’t have to cook, and I’m getting the male perspective to use on my blog.”
“Exactly.”
While it really was a great idea, it would mean she’d be spending a lot of time with Matt—something she still wasn’t sure she could handle.
“I don’t cook like this every single day, Matt. There are going to be times when you’re going to have to fend for yourself.”
He looked disappointed. “You mean like breakfast?”
Laughing, she shoo
k her head. “I mean there are days I just eat leftovers or get takeout or…just make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” She shrugged. “Now that I’m settling in to this assistant editor position, I don’t have to cook as much. I mainly do it now for the pleasure and an occasional blog post—you know, just in case someone doesn’t hand in a post on time, I can have some logged away. I really do enjoy cooking. But now I do it for myself more than for the blog.”
Now he really looked disappointed. “So if I’d shown up here a month ago, this would have been a great idea.”
She nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Well, damn.” With a sigh, he finished up his bowl of soup and then got up to get another one. “So I’m stuck with the microwave meals.”
“That’s not what I said,” she replied. “I’m just saying it’s not going to be an everyday occurrence. I’m happy to share a meal with you a couple of times a week, and I really like your idea about being able to put the male perspective on a recipe.”
Stopping abruptly, inspiration hit. Vivienne stood up and walked across the room to grab her tablet and pulled up the app to jot down some notes. “What if…what if we sort of put together some classic ‘guy’ meals, your burgers and steaks and pizzas, and glammed them up a bit? I can do a spotlight for the magazine. We can promote it as guy-friendly gourmet!” She looked up at him excitedly. “We can play around with of your favorite choices and make them into something couples would enjoy together. What do you think?”
Matt eyed her skeptically. “I don’t know, Viv. I mean I seriously don’t know a thing about cooking. How the hell am I supposed to be of any help?”
“What’s your favorite meal?” she asked simply.
He thought about it for a minute. “There’s this phenomenal steak house in Denver we always eat at when we perform there. They do steaks that are to die for.”
Vivienne shook her head. “Okay, let me rephrase that. What’s one of your favorite everyday meals? You mentioned burgers and pizza. Let’s start with the pizza. What’s your favorite topping?”
“Pepperoni. Isn’t it everyone’s?” he asked with a wink.
One More Kiss Page 11
