Page 116 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

“I wouldn’t mind learning.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Unless you’re only saying that because you like eating it.”

“That’s part of it.”

She laughed. “At least you’re honest. I think we have almost everything we need, although we might have to pop down to the mini market for something. Let me check.”

He followed her into the kitchen as she started opening cabinets and checking the refrigerator.

“You finally gonna dig out that garlic grater?”

She stopped and stared at him. “Oh my goodness. I haven’t unpacked it yet.”

“We brought the damn thing all the way from London and you haven’t used it once. I’m still not convinced it’s really a thing.”

“It’s a thing, Blane. Honestly.”

“Bet it’s not as good as my knife.”

She laughed. “It’s still in the bottom of my suitcase, I’ll go up and get it when we’re ready. But come on, let’s get everything together and see what we need before we go anywhere.”

It turned out they already had most of what they needed, and by the time Bea had satisfied herself that there was no reason to venture back out into the rain, Blane had brought the trays of plants she’d been working on into the sheltered part of the courtyard and found somewhere out of the way to leave them.

When he came back into the kitchen, she was standing in front of the counter studying a couple of glossy purple vegetables.

“I think I should bake the aubergines rather than fry them.”

He stopped. “The what?”

She looked at him. “The aubergines.”

He looked down at the vegetables and then back at her. “Those are eggplants.”

“No, they’re aubergines.”

“Pretty sure they’re eggplants, darlin’.”

“And I’m completely sure they’re aubergines.”

He folded his arms. “Want me to look it up?”

“There’s no need. I already know I’m right.”

He laughed. “This from the woman who told me Americans mangled the English language.”

“We did establish that, yes.”

“No, you established it. I never agreed.”

She picked up one of the aubergines—or eggplants, as any sane human being would call them—and held it out to him. “Whatever ridiculous name you insist on giving it, I think we should bake it.”

He took it from her. “Fine by me. Just don’t expect me to start calling it an aubergine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying to improve you that much in one afternoon.”

He stared at her, and she smiled sweetly and reached for the other one. Yeah, no two ways about it—he loved hanging out at the house with her.

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