“You’ll like it when I’m done with you.” She gave him a taunting smile and moved on to carrots.
Damn, he was having fun in the grocery store. Hard to believe. Then again, maybe not. Miranda had always made him laugh. Sometimes they’d acted like a couple of morons just to irritate Frazer.
Frazer wasn’t around at the moment, so he had no excuse to act like a moron, but Miranda brought out that side of him. Before he could censor the impulse, he’d tucked a sprig of cilantro behind each ear. She cracked up, but then they’d had to buy it. You couldn’t wedge cilantro behind your ear and put it back.
“Don’t worry.” She was still chuckling. “I can use this.”
“For tonight’s dinner?” He had no idea what horrors cilantro could visit on a meal and didn’t want to find out.
“Maybe not, but I’ll figure out something. Someone worked hard to plant and harvest this cilantro. I hate wasting that kind of effort.”
“I shouldn’t have grabbed it just to fool around.”
She smiled up at him. “Yes, you should. This is exactly what I’d hoped for, that you’d realize that fresh produce could be exiting and fun.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” He doubted his reaction would be the same if Miranda hadn’t been standing beside him looking way prettier than any veggie in the bin.
“You will after you’ve finished the meal I’ll cook for you.”
“If you say so.” He’d choke down whatever she made because she was so eager for him to like it. Although she’d promised not to cook parsnips or turnips, guaranteed whatever she served would be loaded with veggies he hated.
But he’d worry about that later. The shopping part had turned out to be a kick and he had some great pictures, including several of Miranda. He justified taking shots of her choosing vegetables because then he could visualize an app user doing that.
Yeah, right. He wanted pictures of her on his phone because eventually he’d finish the app and they wouldn’t be working together anymore. He’d miss having her around. Then a thought came to him that stopped him dead in his tracks. God, he hoped he hadn’t been subconsciously dragging his heels because he liked working with her.
If he had, then shame on him. The guys were counting on his expertise and delaying production meant Tony couldn’t move ahead with his plans for the company’s future. Rylan couldn’t believe that he would stall the process, even subconsciously, because of Miranda.
But as he watched her pushing the cart, her long dark hair catching the gleam from the overhead lights, he wasn’t entirely sure. Thinking back to the first day she’d arrived at the office, he remembered a jolt of pleasure at seeing her again. Although she and Frazer had remained friendly after the breakup, they didn’t hang out together anymore which meant Rylan hadn’t seen or talked to her in several years.
He’d thought about her, though, and had even considered meeting her for coffee – just as friends, of course. Then he’d nixed the idea. It had felt too much like disloyalty since she’d been the one to initiate the breakup. Frazer had said he was fine, no broken heart or anything, but meeting Miranda for coffee hadn’t seemed right.
Now they were colleagues, though, so he could spend time with her guilt-free. That was certainly true of tonight’s adventure because she’d suggested it. If he had a breakthrough because of this trip to the store, Frazer would highly approve.
“Rylan?”
He came back to earth. While he’d stood lost in thought she’d continued to shop and was now about thirty feet away.
She gazed at him. “Everything okay?”
“Sorry.” He used his long legs to good advantage and was beside her in no time. “Got distracted.”
“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t traumatized by the turnip display.”
“Didn’t even see them.”
“They were right beside you. I picked up a few.” She took one out of her basket and held it up.
“That’s a turnip?” He peered at the cream-colored vegetable with a wash of purple across the bottom. “It doesn’t look all that vile.”
“Some are more bitter than others. The ones I buy here are fairly mild. I like combining them with carrots and adding a sweet ginger glaze.”
“You don’t cover them in white gravy?”
She shuddered. “No. Is that how –”
“Oh, yeah. They were little chunks of hell hiding under this tasteless white ooze. I could never decide whether to shove the whole mess in with my mashed potatoes and turkey gravy or eat them real quick by themselves so they wouldn’t pollute the rest of the meal.”
She pressed her lips together but her sparkling green eyes gave her away. She ducked her head and covered her mouth, but a little snort of laughter escaped, anyway. Clearing her throat, she glanced up. “I’m sorry. Someone you love cooked those for you and I shouldn’t laugh.”
“My mom did, and it’s okay. She announced a few years ago that she’d never liked to cook and hadn’t been interested in learning how. She’d ten times rather be studying a black hole than cooking Thanksgiving dinner, but when we were younger she thought she should make the effort.”
“That’s touching.”
“She doesn’t like vegetables, either. My dad can take them or leave them. Except for Thanksgiving we were pretty much raised on fast food.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Exactly. I’m genetically predisposed to dislike veggies.”
“No.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a mock glare. “That wasn’t the point I was planning to make.”
“It’s the point I was planning to make.” He’d always loved sparring with her, too. Her cheeks got pink and she’d argue forever but she was good-natured about it. “I’m sure you’ve studied the blood type research connected with diet. I’m Type O. My ancestors ate the wooly mammoth, not turnips.”
“Actually they ate lots of termites.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Cross my heart.” She used her finger to make an X over her left breast. “Google it if you don’t believe me.”
“I don’t want to believe you. That’s gross.” But her cute little gesture had drawn his gaze where he’d promised himself it wouldn’t go. He quickly looked up again and gave himself a stern warning. There was no reason to admire her breasts. He had no intention of ever being more than her friend.
Liar. Although he’d disciplined himself to think of her only in terms of friendship and had studiously avoided looking at her chest, he hadn’t been able to totally ignore it. He’d done his best to smack down any sexual feelings for Miranda but they kept popping up like a game of Whack-a-Mole.
Then a couple of weeks ago Blake Pearson, a jerk who had to be on the team because his father was their largest investor, had groped Miranda. When Rylan had heard about it, he’d been ready to annihilate the creep. His violent reaction probably indicated that he considered Miranda’s breasts, or any part of her body, to be privileged territory. And though he tried to deny it, he yearned for that privilege.
“I’m pretty much done here,” she said. “Have you taken all the pictures you need?”
“For now. I noticed they have a little café with a few tables and chairs. I might come back this weekend and work there.”
“Excellent idea.” She beamed at him. “You don’t know how excited I am that you like this place. I have a better feeling about the app.”
“Me, too. I can send these pictures to the company creating our images so they’ll know what I’m looking for.” As they approached the checkout counter, he pulled out his wallet. “Oh, and I’m buying.”
“Why?”
“I just . . . want to.” He scrambled for a reason when there really wasn’t one other than he had a testosterone-driven urge to treat. “You’re going to cook for me. At least let me pay for the food.”
“That makes no sense. I’ll give you a little bit of this tonight, but mostly it’s stuff I’ll be eating for the next few days.
My groceries, my expense.”
“I know, but –”
“Unless you want to expand the experiment and eat several vegetable-based meals with me?”
“Yes, absolutely. I’d love to do that.” He should have his head examined. Several vegetable-based meals? He hadn’t even made it through one yet. But the key words had been with me. She was giving him the opportunity to spend time with her and it was all in the name of research for the app. He could explain it to Frazer with a clear conscience.
His conscience would be clear, too, because he would keep everything strictly G-rated. He just flat-out liked being with her. He’d forgotten how much until they’d started goofing around in the grocery store. They got along and he would love to be friends with her if he didn’t think Frazer would be ticked off.
Maybe when her consulting job was finished he’d ask Frazer if it would bother him for his little brother to maintain regular contact with Miranda. He didn’t want to lose touch with her like he had before. Her friendship was important to him.
She’d brought her own bags for the groceries, which didn’t surprise him. He helped her load everything in with a feeling of satisfaction. Bagging fresh produce was more interesting than bagging the items he usually bought – cans of soup and frozen dinners. He was handling vegetables and kind of liking it.
Besides the veggies she’d also bought some fruit. He’d never had a real problem with fruit so that was actually fun. The fuzzy little kiwis made him think of something he shouldn’t, especially in combination with a banana.
He decided against making any jokes about two kiwis and a banana because that would take them down the wrong road. They could kid around about a lot of things, but sex wasn’t one of them. In that area he didn’t trust himself. The conversation could get out of hand way too easily.
Once they were back in the car he noticed something else. “Those groceries smell great.”
“I know, right? That’s one of the perks of buying a lot of produce. The trip home is like an aromatherapy session. Tonight I especially notice the lemons. I’m so glad they’re in season.”
“What do you mean, in season? You can always buy lemons.”
“That’s true, but right now they’re ripe in the California citrus groves, which means they don’t have to be shipped as far and they arrive with more vitamins intact. Out of season they come from a greater distance and logically would lose some of their nutritional value.”
“That never crossed my mind.”
“Not everybody thinks about that, but I’d like to include it in the data. I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but wouldn’t it be cool to have a color-coded map to show what’s currently in season in different parts of the country or the world?”
He wasn’t so sure, but she was excited and he didn’t want to rain on her parade. “Do you think people will care about it?”
“Yes. Not everyone, but there’s more interest all the time. Local food sourcing has become popular. Some restaurants use the words locally sourced produce as part of their marketing strategy.”
”Huh. Didn’t know that.”
“I’m picturing people using the app when they go out to dinner as well as in the grocery store. If we want to consider making the app interactive, users could send in reviews of restaurants that do a great job with fresh produce.”
“I like that.” He took a deep breath. “Wish we’d talked about it earlier.”
“I tried. You weren’t enthusiastic about my ideas. “
He thought back to their preliminary discussions and cringed. “You’re right, I wasn’t.”
“At the time I couldn’t figure out why you were being so negative about my concepts. But knowing your background, I get it. You look at fresh produce and find nothing to love.”
“I’m not so sure. Those kiwis looked pretty cute.” That was as far as he would take it.
“Have you ever cut into one? They’re a beautiful green inside.”
“Never cut into one, never even noticed them until tonight. I don’t think you understand how I traditionally shop for food. I stick to three aisles. One provides me with frozen dinners. The cereal aisle gives me breakfast options and the soda display is where I find my favorite beverages and enough varieties of chips that I don’t have to eat the same kind two days in a row.”
She groaned. “No wonder you’re stuck! If the app went live tomorrow, you wouldn’t use it!”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t create it.” And he would, by God. He’d do it because it was a good idea that would benefit a lot of people. He’d also do it because the future of BMUS was at stake. But mostly he’d do it because building a great app would make Miranda happy.
Chapter Three
Miranda was proud of her apartment. The last time she’d had Rylan over for dinner, she’d lived in a cramped little one-bedroom near campus and had been dating Frazer. Rylan had planned to bring his girlfriend but she’d come down with the flu. That had left the three of them to feast on a family sized pizza the guys had ordered. They’d all sipped cheap Chianti and played video games until the wee hours of the morning.
That was the night she’d begun to see that Frazer wasn’t the guy for her. Even at three in the morning after all that wine he hadn’t been able to let go and act goofy. Rylan was way more fun, but he was also Frazer’s brother.
Although she’d ended the relationship with Frazer years ago, she still felt uneasy having sexy thoughts about Rylan. That didn’t stop her from having them, though. Watching him sitting at her kitchen table working intently on his laptop stirred her blood.
She should concentrate on the broccoli florets, red peppers and yellow squash she was slicing for the pasta primavera instead of looking at Rylan every few minutes. She’d poured them each a glass of Chardonnay and whenever she took a sip she gave in to temptation and glanced over there.
She could get away with it because his gaze never left the screen, not even when he picked up his wine glass. He reached for it, took a drink and set it down again with Jedi-like precision. When he licked a drop of wine off his upper lip she felt a zing of sensual awareness. But his concentration was so intense that she wondered if he remembered she was there.
Excitement glowed in his expression and for that she was grateful. Passion for his work had been missing ever since he’d started creating the app. She should have figured out why a long time ago. Apparently she, like everyone else, had thought that his usual method of binging on fast food and soda and playing hard rock would yield results eventually. It always had before.
The scent of onion and garlic sautéing in olive oil filled the warm kitchen and she took a deep, appreciative breath. Fusilli pasta rolled in a slow boil on a back burner as she added the veggies to the garlic and onion. She cooked all the time but she hadn’t done it for someone else in a while.
Her girlfriends usually came over for a meal every few weeks, but everyone had been crazy busy recently and two months had flown by. The rest of her family lived in LA and she only got together with them once or twice a year. She hadn’t had a guy to cook for since her last boyfriend had taken a job in Thailand and they’d decided a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work for them.
Preparing a meal for people she cared about was part of her DNA and she cared about Rylan. Poor man had a lot of pressure on him. He’d been trying to deal with that alone but she didn’t intend to let him do it anymore.
But now she had a small dilemma. The veggies were fork-tender and the pasta was done. She’d warmed a loaf of bread in the oven and uncovered the soft butter she kept in a ceramic dish on the counter.
If she served the meal now it would be perfect. If she delayed, the veggies and pasta would become mushy and the bread would cool. On the other hand, Rylan seemed totally engrossed in his work and apparently the app creation was going well for the first time in days, maybe weeks.
Yet she’d planned to convince him vegetables could be wonderful by
fixing them so they’d show off to best advantage. She decided to dish up the meal and gently try to get his attention. If he didn’t respond, she’d eat her dinner and make another one for him later on. She’d rather waste food than serve him a substandard veggie dish.
After arranging everything in two wide-lipped pasta bowls, she pulled her phone from her purse and took a picture because they were just that pretty. She sliced the bread and wrapped it in a checkered cloth before laying it in a basket. Then she took silverware and cloth napkins from a drawer, loaded a tray and carried everything into her small dining room.
Although she was still renting, her apartment was twice as big as the one she’d had in college. The two bedrooms were small, but having a dining room and a roomy kitchen with a gas stove had trumped the size of the bedrooms.
Last of all she dimmed the lights and lit the assortment of candles grouped in the center of the table. Good food was important but so was a gracious atmosphere. For one brief moment she wondered if the setting looked too romantic, but she brushed the concern aside. This was about wooing Rylan to a better relationship with fresh produce, and considering his background she’d need plenty of ammunition.
Walking back into the kitchen, she picked up the wine bottle and her nearly empty glass. She debated announcing to him that dinner was ready, but then she decided to quietly speak his name, instead.
For the first time since he’d turned on his laptop, he looked at her. She was surprised by the sharp focus of his gaze. She’d expected him to be disoriented and maybe a little muddled after his intense concentration on the app.
Instead he seemed extremely alert. “What?”
“Dinner’s ready. But if you need to keep working I’ll underst –”
“Nope.” He closed the laptop with a decisive click. “After sucking up the smell of that food, I’m starving.”
“And here I thought you were lost to the world.”
Tender is the Nerd (Nerds & Geeks Book 2) Page 2
