“If it’s not too much trouble.” He grimaced and glanced at the front door. “I wonder if Seth will be back to eat.”
Though she privately doubted that, she nodded. “I’ll make extra just in case. As long as I keep the eggs and the English muffins separate, it won’t get too soggy.”
Humming happily, she got busy. Next to skiing, cooking was her favorite pastime. And privately, she considered herself pretty darn talented at it. Her friends back in Boston had always raved about the meals she’d made. And since moving to Boulder, she’d hosted a couple of dinner parties with the same results.
And now she’d be cooking for Remy. Why that felt different, she wasn’t sure.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he murmured from behind her, his voice so close she knew if she spun around, she could reach out and touch him.
Forcing herself to continuing stirring the hollandaise sauce, she simply glanced over her shoulder. “Not really. Why don’t you make yourself a cup of coffee and sit down and relax? This won’t take too much longer.”
“Would you like a cup, too?” he asked. “You look like you’re about empty.”
Though she rarely had more than two coffees per day, she liked the idea of sharing a cup with this man. Maybe they could talk and get to know each other a little bit better. As long as that’s all they did, that should be safe.
“Sure,” she answered.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, please.” She smiled as he did a double take. “I know, black coffee is better. According to Seth, you can best taste the coffee that way.”
“I agree with my brother on that.” Remy made them both a cup, then carried hers over to her before taking a seat at the table. “You seem to know what you’re doing,” he commented. “Do you cook professionally?”
“No.” She risked another glance over her shoulder. “I’ve thought about it. Though I’m afraid if I started doing it for a living, that would take some of the joy out of it.”
Just then the front door blew open and Seth burst inside. He shook off snow before removing his coat and barreling through to the kitchen. At the doorway, he stopped short, staring at the two of them.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he came up behind Vanessa and gave her a huge kiss on the side of her neck. “That smells interesting. Why are you cooking for my brother?”
At his touch, she froze. Again, she had the sense of barely leashed violence, though she managed to shrug lightly. “He was hungry, so I thought I’d make him something to eat while he waited for you to get back. There’s plenty, if you’d like some, too.”
Instead of immediately answering, he leaned around her and peered into the pan. “What is that?”
“Hollandaise sauce. I’m poaching some eggs and serving them on English muffins with cheese, topped by this sauce.”
“You know, eggs Benedict,” Remy chimed in, his tone dry. “I’m pretty sure you’ve had it before.”
Though Seth didn’t respond, judging by the hard set of his mouth, he wasn’t pleased.
Why Remy was pushing his brother’s buttons, she wasn’t sure. But she sure as heck planned to stay out of it. She kept busy, putting the English muffins under the broiler now that the poached eggs were in the water. “Seth, why don’t you get some coffee and sit?” she suggested. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
Seth narrowed his eyes and glared at her, then stalked over to the coffee maker. Relieved, she relaxed her spine slightly, though she couldn’t help but wonder if coming here for closure might have been a huge mistake.
The eggs were done just as the English muffins turned the perfect shade of brown. She tossed a few thick slices of ham in a frying pan and when they’d begun to crisp, she put everything together and ladled the hollandaise on top. Perfect, she thought, suppressing the urge to snap a quick pic with her phone. Instead, she smiled and carried the plates over to the table.
“Here you go,” she said, placing the meals in front of each man. “Enjoy.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Seth asked, eying his food. “Seems like you went through an awful lot of trouble for my brother.”
Still smiling, she ignored the snide tone. “I had scrambled eggs and toast earlier, while you were asleep. And you know how much I like to cook. This wasn’t any trouble at all.”
“Thank you,” Remy said, and he dug in.
Seth eyed his brother, using his fork to move things around on his plate. When he finally cut a piece, he got only the egg and ham, leaving the English muffin and most of the sauce on his plate. He chewed and then set down his fork. “You know,” he mused, “I think it’s time I hired a professional chef.”
When he glanced at Vanessa, she wondered if he was actually going to offer her the job.
“One who can really cook.” He pushed his plate away. “Nice try, Van.”
Stunned, she could only stare. To her horror, she felt tears prick the back of her eyes. She turned away, ostensibly to clean up the pans. The casual cruelty coming from a man she’d always regarded as a friend hurt. Clearly, Seth hadn’t gotten over the breakup, and they couldn’t go back to being friends. In fact, as soon as the roads were clear, she needed to pack up and go. Maybe a room at either The Chateau or The Lodge would have become available just for one or two nights, so she could ski Pine Peak. Heck, she’d even take a room in one of the chain motels on the edge of town.
She ran the water, then scrubbed out the pans and placed them in the dishwasher. Seth had gone silent, making her wonder if he might apologize. She glanced back at the table, only to find him glaring at her, his expression furious.
“What were you two doing here alone while I was gone?” he demanded, including Remy in his stare. “And come on, Vanessa, why were you trying to impress my brother with a fancy breakfast? We have oatmeal. Scrambled eggs and toast is what you said you had. But no, that wasn’t good enough for him. I’m thinking you—”
“Enough!” Remy pushed to his feet. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Seth. Leave her alone. She was simply being kind. She doesn’t deserve this treatment from you.”
“Really, Remy?” Standing so quickly he knocked back his chair, Seth faced his older brother. His hands were clenched into fists. “You come in my place, hit on my girlfriend and have the nerve to try and tell me how to act?”
Remy appeared as stunned as she felt. “Seth—”
Again, Seth cut him off. “Mind your own business. Vanessa belongs to me. Our relationship has nothing to do with you.” He pointed toward the door. “Leave.”
Remy took care not to glance her way. Part of her didn’t want him to leave. But when she didn’t correct Seth, what else could he do?
“Thanks for breakfast,” he finally said, meeting her gaze. “It was delicious.” He grabbed his parka and
