“Some people endeavor to climb Everest, or cure cancer, or help the homeless. This is the best you could come up with?”
“Not about being the best, I guess. Just something I want to learn how to make. That’s all.” I smile a little sheepishly and watch as a full-out smile spreads across Zander’s face.
His chest shakes with laughter and his eyes twinkle a little. “Have I told you how amazing you are?” he says, reaching for my hand then pulling me right into him.
“Not today.”
“You’re amazing, Slim.”
“Ditto.”
***
Zander and I pull out onto the main road and I watch in the side mirror as a black Lincoln follows us. Zander seems a little tense with them there, but he isn’t telling them to get lost or anything. It’s weird—all this political royalty stuff is real. Zander McBride just doesn’t really fit in with it and I guess I don’t either, but I think I fit in just fine with Zander McBride.
Zander doesn’t hesitate to take my hand in his as we cruise the grocery store in search of chocolate chips and strawberries. He looks around us repeatedly, I assume, looking for James or Jeremiah whatever his name was.
His temperament shifts back into lovable Zander territory as he watches me fumble around his kitchen, trying desperately to do exactly as the lady on the web tutorial has explained. Zander is a far better cook than I am, but he has stayed back, just watching me cross something off my bucket list.
The strawberries have cooled in the fridge, giving the chocolate a chance to solidify again. I pull the tray from the rack and slide it onto the counter. Zander rounds the island to help inspect my work.
“They look terrible,” he says, surveying the messy chocolate covered strawberries.
“Well—yeah,” I admit on a snort. I pluck one of the sloppy treats up from the wax paper and stare at it, trying to decide the best way to eat the monstrosity. I twirl the toothpick that it’s stuck on between my thumb and index finger, spinning the strawberry around. It’s a mess. The chocolate has coated the berries, yes, but it’s an uneven hardened glob of chocolate with red berry peeking out where the chocolate has failed to cover.
“They aren’t pretty are they?” I ask, turning to Zander and holding out my creation.
His brows arch and I watch as he fights to hold back a grin. “Ah—yeah…not particularly. I’m sure they taste fine, though,” he offers as consolation.
Stepping close to the counter, I tug a paper towel from the roll and set it on the granite countertop. I bring the berry to my lips and my eyes find their way to meet Zander’s. I nip the excess chocolate away from the strawberry, taking each piece from my lips and setting it on the napkin. Piece after piece, I chip away at the strawberry and it reminds me so much of sculpting. I miss the art. I miss taking something crude and shaping and defining it until it’s something worth looking at.
Zander watches me carefully, saying nothing. He keeps his gaze locked on my lips as they seal over the chocolate and nip off little bits at a time. His eyes follow my fingers as they come to my lips, take the bit of chocolate from between my teeth, and then deposit it on the paper towel.
“What are you doing?” he asks curiously.
“Getting rid of all the excess,” I explain around the strawberry between my teeth.
“You’re wasting chocolate,” he says accusatorily.
“So? I don’t want a little strawberry with my chocolate. I wanted a little chocolate on my strawberry.” I shrug, content with the most simple of explanations.
“So I have a real fuckin’ issue with that!” Zander exclaims with wide eyes, his hands perched low on his hips like men do.
My brows shoot up and I can’t help but smile wide. Alexander McBride is a chocolate lover. I’m wasting chocolate and apparently chocoholics can’t handle that. Laughter bursts through me as I set another piece of chocolate on the counter.
“Ha ha. Yes. Real funny. The heart patient who shouldn’t have junk food happens to like—okay, love—milk chocolate. How can you just waste it like that?! The strawberry isn’t the point at all!” he says, mock scandalized, and I can’t help but giggle again. “Laugh it up, Sadie. I’ll get you back.” Zander nods as he makes his threat.