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His heart hammered in his chest, and he did the first thing that came to his mind. He pshawed. Mortification filled him. Did he just say, “Pshaw?” For real? What was he, ninety? He forced out more words to cover up his embarrassment. “She’s just joking around. You know Brielle. What a jokester she is. Always making up stuff.”
Nara’s eyes narrowed. “Why would she say that?”
Derek had to make something up, and fast. Too bad his brain had left him. Hung up a sign that said, “I’ll be back later, you moron.” He had absolutely nothing.
Nara just stared at him, so he opened his mouth and let a string of idiocy come out. “I think it’s because of that one time.” He held out his hand and snapped his fingers, hoping beyond hope that something brilliant would come to his mind. Instead, he just stood there snapping like one of those guys from West Side Story.
“You know,” he continued, now desperate for anything to fill the silence. “That one time we did that thing. And she joked about it. And we all laughed.” Sweat dripped down the side of his face. He wasn’t doing a great job at this. He was totally screwing everything up. She would see through this. She would finally know how he’d felt about her all these years.
Nara tugged at her ear. “Huh. I don’t remember that.”
Derek let out a too-loud laugh. “Yeah, it was funny. That’s what she’s talking about. Joking about. That whole thing. But since you don’t remember, it’s not really funny anymore.”
Why was he still talking? Why didn’t he just shut up and get out of there? Yes, that’s what he needed to do. Right now.
Derek shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay, I’d better go check on that thing. I don’t want to wait too long…or that thing…might…” He had nothing in the oven. Nothing going on whatsoever because they were still supposed to be on their honeymoon. He gave up and finally said, “You know.”
He brushed past her and rushed down the stairs, sweat stinging his eyes. His armpits felt like tiny saunas. He really needed to get out of there. Maybe go for a walk. Or, go to the store. Sure, that would work. He grabbed his keys and headed to the garage, like he was on a mission. Nara was always complaining about him wearing suits. Maybe he would pick up some casual clothes. Yes, that was it. He needed them. Now. Before the world exploded.
Or before he had to face Nara again.
Chapter 23
Nara watched Derek’s car as he drove down the driveway and out onto the street. What was up with him? He was acting so strange.
She shrugged and fished around her sewing tub, looking for her book of patterns. She really couldn’t contemplate Derek and his odd behavior right now. She had to gather what she needed to enter the contest.
It took her several hours, and a little bit of time filling out online forms, but finally by five o’clock she’d taken all the photos she needed and uploaded everything to the website. She was officially entering the Poiz Design contest. Her palms grew sweaty as she clicked the send button.
Whew. It was done. She stood, nerves making her want to go running or something. She wiped her hands on her jeans. Nothing more to do now, other than to wait.
A smell wafted up from downstairs, and her stomach growled. Had she skipped lunch? Wow, she must have really been concentrating. She didn’t normally skip meals. She sprinted down the stairs, wondering what Brielle was making.
When she entered the kitchen, she stopped short. It wasn’t Brielle cooking. Derek stood in front of the stovetop, a frying pan sizzling in his hand. He turned to glance at her. “Hey,” he said.
Brielle was sitting on a stool, a paperback in hand. She didn’t look up from her book.
“What are you making?” Nara asked.
“Just a sausage skillet dish.”
She breathed in the aroma. “Smells delicious. Holy cow. I didn’t know you can cook.”
Derek nodded, his spatula stirring the contents of the pan. “I’ve learned to make some simple dinners over the years.”
Feeling a bit flirty, and emboldened by Brielle sitting there, Nara walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist, snugging into his back. “I got super lucky, marrying a man who knows his way around the kitchen.”
“You didn’t know he cooks?” Brielle’s nose wrinkled.
Oh, shoot. She didn’t think about it, but yeah, that probably is something she should have known. She tried to cover it up. “I just didn’t know he was so good. This smells divine.”
“Oh, yeah. He can make a mean soup, too.” Brielle grinned. “Or my favorite, nachos.”
“Taco night can’t be every night,” Derek said, as if he’d said it a million times before.
Brielle huffed and turned the page in her book. “I don’t see why not. Tacos rule.”
“Will you set the table?” he asked, looking at Brielle.
