Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
That was definitely worth having to put up with Jeb Wilder.
Not that she’d seen him or Wyatt since she’d arrived a few hours ago. Jeb had put of all her stuff into this really cute spare room with the admonishment that she was to stay off her foot and not do too much. Then he’d gone to work. Now it was after six and her tummy was growling.
She hadn’t been eating much lately.
Well, Jeb had told her that she was in charge of meals. Which was going to be interesting when she couldn’t actually cook.
But, really, how hard could it be?
Opening the fridge, she hummed and danced as she drew out cheese and cold meat. Awesome. Oh, and there were grapes. And crackers.
She had the beginnings of a feast.
“Are you making a snack?” Wyatt asked as he stepped into the room. “So close to dinner? Papa won’t like that.”
“This isn’t a snack! It’s dinner!”
Wyatt’s eyes widened as he watched her put everything together on a wooden plate she’d found.
“Dinner?”
“Yep.”
“But for dinner we usually have things like steak and mashed potatoes or roast meat with potatoes. Or fried chicken with mashed potatoes.”
“That’s a lot of potatoes, sugar. Not that I mind potatoes. Hey, look! Here we are!” She picked up a packet of chips. “I’ll put these on. And potatoes! Voila!”
She set it down in the middle of the table just as she heard a door open and shut.
“And just in time.”
Wyatt just stared at her. Then down at the food. Then he shook his head.
Obviously, he was basking in her magnificence. She’d stolen his ability to talk.
It happened a lot.
“Evening,” Jeb said as he walked in and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “What’s this? Snacks before dinner? We don’t usually do that.”
“No, this is dinner. Have you guys never seen a charcuterie board before?” she asked.
“A what?” Wyatt asked.
“Like with cheese and meat and fruit. Crackers. Sometimes dips. Sorry, no dips tonight.”
“Snacks for dinner?” Jeb repeated incredulously. “Uh, we usually eat proper meals. I work all day and Wyatt is a growing boy who needs vegetables and protein.”
“I’ve got meat on the board. And dairy. That’s good for growing boys, right?”
“I think it looks yummy,” Wyatt said.
Jeb studied her for a long moment. Then he crossed his arms over his chest.
Uh-oh.
That was his standard bossy pose. Which probably meant she was in trouble.
It was something she was used to.
“Casey?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you know how to cook?”
She bit her lip. “If I tell you no, am I fired?”
“If you lie to me you’re fired.”
Wow. Harsh. Fine.
“I can’t cook. I’m sorry! I thought I could figure something out. I’m sure if I look up a video online or something I can figure it out.”
She braced herself for him to tell her that she was fired. Or that he wasn’t happy. That she was useless.
Instead, he just nodded tiredly. “It’s all right. Your main job is to look after Wyatt. He just likes toast in the morning and he’s happy with sandwiches for lunch. We can make do for dinner. I can deal with it when I get home. Tonight, well, charter-thing it is.”
“I think it’s called a cha-cha-cutie board, Papa,” Wyatt said as he got out knives and forks and plates.
“Charcuterie,” she corrected. “And you don’t need all that stuff, sugar. That’s the great thing about these sorts of meals. No extra mess to clean up.”
“Do you eat this way a lot?” Jeb asked as they all sat and started to eat.
Well, she started to eat. The two of them just watched her for a moment. As though studying what they should do.
So strange.
“Sometimes. I don’t really eat set meals anymore. I just eat when I’m hungry.”
Actually, more like when she could afford food.
“Back home, we always ate lots of formal meals,” she added. “Complicated things like Salmon Wellington with a white wine cream sauce.”
“That sounds weird.” Wyatt wrinkled his nose.
“Actually, it wasn’t bad. But I don’t like eating that way all the time. Sometimes, a girl just wants to sit on her bed and eat Twizzlers for dinner, you know?”
Wyatt nodded while Jeb shook his head. “That isn’t healthy.”
“Did you know you can make a charcuterie board of candy?” she asked Wyatt.
“You can?”
“Yep, that’s my dream dinner.”
“That is not dinner,” Jeb told them. “It’s a stomach ache. I’ll get some stuff out for dinner tomorrow night. But let’s eat up and get to bed. The days start early around here.”
Right.
Sure.
Maybe saying yes to this hadn’t been such a good idea. Because it felt like she was failing before she even started.
Chapter Thirteen
Jeb felt terrible.
He stood outside the door to Casey’s bedroom, the look on her face from earlier playing through his mind. She’d looked so sad and defeated.
Crap. He hadn’t meant to imply that she was doing a bad job. Sure, it would be easier on him if she could cook. But they’d manage.