“Yes?” She straightened from smoothing out the bedspread.
Gabe lost his words for minute, struck by a simple thing. God, she was beautiful. No makeup, no sharp dress suit or nicely coordinated blouse and slacks. Her hair hung over one shoulder in a simple ponytail. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not even for a second.
“The team will be back in time for lunch.” He offered the latest news because there wasn’t anything else he thought she’d care to hear.
A small smile touched her face and he missed the brighter smiles she’d give him before. “The lunch I had planned takes some time to prep. Mind if I head up to the main house?”
Gabe stepped out of the doorway so she could pass. “Sure. You can go up there anytime.”
“As long as someone knows where I am?” There was a hint of something there. Not bitterness. Something.
“We want to keep you safe.” He wanted to most of all. “But we want you to be as comfortable as possible too.”
He didn’t try to suggest she needn’t cook. It’d be an insult. As if he hadn’t learned anything about her at all. And he was afraid to ask her if he could help.
Instead, he followed her up to the main house with his laptop and parked himself at the breakfast bar to do more research and planning while she cooked.
“Still making dim sum?” He’d had some once, in Seattle’s Chinatown-International District. The ingredients she was setting out were varied but didn’t seem as wide an array as he’d guessed would be needed for all those little dishes and dumplings.
She shook her head. “Didn’t have the ingredients to do it really well.”
“I would’ve gone out on a supply run for you.”
She hesitated and he heard her unspoken thoughts loud and clear. He wasn’t allowed to help anymore.
“I figured with the rainy weather, comfort food would go better.”
“The team will like whatever you make.” He tried to infuse his words with sincerity, since she’d probably bristle at reassurance. Walking on eggshells was not his strong suit. “It’s all been incredible so far.”
She gave him another small smile, and he let go his breath, happy she believed him.
They both fell silent then. He continued his research online, catching up on response emails to his queries and running a few specific searches. At the edge of his peripheral, Maylin went about dropping her uncooked rice in a blender complete with the water she’d used to soak it overnight. While it was blending, she took out a deep Dutch oven from the back of the cabinet and put a bunch of large spoons in the bottom. Gabe couldn’t figure out how the hell she’d be cooking with that setup. Next she took out a cake pan and greased it lightly with vegetable oil. Then he was really confused.
She set the Dutch oven on the stove over fire set to the highest setting and poured some water in it. As she turned away, he craned his neck to see inside. The water didn’t quite cover the rounded backs of the spoons on the bottom.
What the hell?
Next, the cake pan was set on top of the spoons with what looked like a thin layer of the rice batter she’d made. Then she covered the whole thing.
No idea what was going on there. But Maylin turned to other ingredients, browning ground pork and fresh minced garlic in a medium pot and filling the kitchen with savory scents to make his mouth water.
Gabe jerked when she turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, and gave her a guilty grin. Caught staring. But hell, the magic she worked in a kitchen was beyond him.
“Do you mostly cook Asian foods?” Was that a safe question? Might not be.
But Maylin didn’t seem to mind. “I cook dishes from a lot of different cultures. I love Italian and Greek. But when I’m worried or anxious, I tend to fall back on the dishes I learned to make growing up. Less likely to mess those up when my mind is working through other things.”
Made sense. “Like any Brazilian dishes? Or Portuguese?”
“Love eating the food, not so good at cooking it...yet.” Maylin continued to work as she spoke, pouring water into the pot of browned meat and garlic. “I’d love to learn.”
“I’ve got a couple of dishes I remember.” Maybe. Sort of. “Really simple dishes.”
Maylin laughed. It was short and quiet, but it was still a laugh and he’d take it. “Simple is usually the best place to start with any new cuisine. I like to learn the basic foundation dishes and then build from there.”
Smart. Practical. Methodical in the way she approached things. And so very talented. He could see why her parents had thought she’d do well as a doctor. And he was very glad she’d followed her heart instead. People tended to lose some of their spark when they were forced into a profession they didn’t have a passion for, and he wanted to see Maylin happy.
“I take it you didn’t do much cooking as a kid.” Her statement was a hesitant invitation, and he was not going to pass it up. Not this time.