As Red continued to prepare their dinner, she had time to think about all of the things they still needed to talk about. After all, now that she was pregnant, they had to truly set a wedding date and work through everything this was going to entail. She didn’t know what kind of parenting style Red believed in. She didn’t know if he wanted to find out the baby’s sex in advance—did he want to take Lamaze classes with her?
There were so many questions, so many details to figure out.
And on top of that, there were all the other questions still lingering about what Red’s fate was going to be now that he’d been fired from Jameson International. Nicole didn’t care about the money specifically, but she did want to know what his next step would be. Did he want to just hang around at home and live off his money for the rest of his life—did he want them to live in the wilderness like the Swiss Family Robinson?
Nicole hated to think that Kane Wright had forced Red into early retirement. Even thinking the man’s name made her stomach turn. Worse still, she knew eventually she was going to have to explain to Red what had gone on while they’d been out of touch.
Kane was still under the assumption that Nicole was going to the Cayman Islands with him. How would he react when he realized she was backing out of the deal? He’d already paid off Danielle’s student loans and credit cards to the tune of a hundred thousand dollars. He still had information about Red that he was threatening to release to the media.
As wonderful as it had been to enjoy this little pocket of tranquility and contentment, she knew she was going to have to burst the bubble sooner rather than later with news from the outside world.
And Nicole knew Red well enough to be fairly certain he was going to blow his stack when he found out about Kane Wright’s recent overtures.
“Dinner is served, madam,” Red said, carrying a heaping plate of spaghetti over to her on the couch.
“It looks and smells delicious,” she said, and it was true. Her stomach gurgled and growled, reminding her of just how ravenous she really was.
Nicole dug in immediately and was astounded by how good it tasted. “Wow,” she said. “You weren’t kidding when you said this was your famous marinara sauce. It’s totally awesome.”
Red went to the stove to make himself a plate. “I shouldn’t really take all the credit, though. Chef Roland might have shown me a thing or two.”
“It’s his recipe, isn’t it?”
Red finished spooning sauce onto his spaghetti before answering. “Truth is, a couple years ago I realized that I couldn’t cook anything but bacon and eggs. And my eggs weren’t anything to write home about either.” He grabbed a chair and pulled it right next to the couch, then sat down and rested the plate on his lap. “I figured it might be nice to learn how to make at least one decent meal, in case I ever wanted to cook and impress someone.”
Nicole cocked an eyebrow at him. “Just how many women have you made this famous pasta for?”
“Only a few,” he said, his face reddening slightly. “But I’ve never made it with so much love. I swear.”
She put another forkful in her mouth and chewed before speaking again. “It’s okay, I love you even though you used to be a slut.”
“Slut? Me?” He shook his head, pretending to be annoyed. “How dare you?”
“Did Kate Hudson ever eat this?”
“No.”
She threw a few other famous actresses and models at him.
He kept shaking his head no, clearly embarrassed. Nicole just laughed, she honestly didn’t care whether or not he’d used his cooking skills to impress other women. She liked seeing him squirm, though.
When the meal was over, Red took the dishes and washed them, put the pot in the fridge for leftovers. It was interesting watching him work, Nicole thought.
In their brief time together, they’d always been served by others; housekeepers, waiters and world-class chefs. But she could tell that Red was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and he even seemed to enjoy doing it. He was diligent with everything he did. Red Jameson liked to do things the right way, she decided. It didn’t matter if he was cleaning up pasta sauce or putting together a multi-million dollar ad campaign—he paid attention to details.
She really admired that about him.
And he also really seemed to enjoy taking care of her. Immediately after dinner, he checked her foot again, made sure it was comfortable and elevated. He sat on the edge of the couch and held her hand, looked into her eyes and told her how glad he was that she’d came to the cabin. “You coming here was like God smacking me upside the head and telling me what an idiot I’ve been,” he said.
“I wanted to smack you upside the head a few times lately,” she replied.
“I’m sorry. I’ve realized that I can’t let my past haunt me anymore.” His eyes grew distant as he said it.
“That’s my only concern,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I just don’t want it to happen ever again.”
He seemed to come back to himself. His gaze grew sharp and he nodded. “I understand why you’d be worried, you need to be able to trust that I won’t go crazy again.”
“Can I?”