Love and Chaos by Elizabeth Powers Page B

pantry. And the cupboards.
Perplexed, she leaned back against the countertop and wondered what in the
world Mason ate. She knew that he often ate breakfast on the run, and had
business dinners frequently, but this was silly, she thought. And she could not
live like this for three years.
    After
taking Chaos out for a run, Emma showered and changed her clothes, crated her
pooped-out pooch, grabbed her purse and headed for her car. After a quick stop
for a large cup of steaming hot coffee, she continued up the road to the
shopping center. Five hours later, she returned to the house, her trunk filled
with groceries, and her back seat laden with purchases from a local home
decorating store. She wasn't planning to change all of Mason's house - that
seemed extreme. But her living space was going to be transformed, and she was
claiming the kitchen. Caterers be damned, she thought.
    Letting
Chaos out to follow her around and sniff her new things, she looked around in
satisfaction. It really didn't take much to make a house feel like a home. A
new duvet on the bed, some new sheets, a few throw pillows that had color in
them. More pillows for the chair. Some bright towels in the bathroom, and a
couple of happy baskets to hold her things. NOW her bedroom felt lived in. Felt
like it might be hers. Felt less like a hotel. Felt like a place she could
actually enjoy for a while. She’d work on her office next week.
    Back
in the kitchen, she put away groceries, organized the pantry shelves, and
stocked the fridge with fruit, cheese, yogurt, some dips and spreads, and
things she would want for baking and cooking - butter, eggs, yeast, milk, cream
cheese, and various sauces and condiments. And a bin full of fresh veggies for
salads.
    Mason
wouldn’t even notice, she thought with amusement, looking around the room when
she was done. Everything was in its place. Besides, the man was never home, and
when he was, he was in his office, which was on the other side of the house.
Emma wondered if Mason even realized that he had a kitchen some days.
    So.
It was Saturday. Normally, she went out for drinks or dinner with friends, or
met up with a date, or popped in to see her family. But she hadn’t planned
anything for tonight with her friends, and she was still steering clear of the
flammable cargo explosion that was her family’s current state. Tonight, she was
staying home.
    Glancing
at her watch, Emma realized that it was close to 4:00. She hadn’t seen Mason
all day, and since he hadn’t made checking in with her a habit, she decided
that she was going to do her own thing. And her own thing, at least tonight,
involved cooking dinner.
     
     
    At
6:00, Mason pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t meant to spend all day at the
office, but things just happened that way. He felt a little badly that he’d
abandoned Emma so soon after moving her in, but she was a competent
professional woman, and she would figure her own life out. And she was still
dealing with her family. Plus, she had just gotten back from a trip, he
reasoned. She probably slept in, maybe took a nap later in the day. He’d check
in with her tonight before heading into his home office just to be sure that
she was comfortable and settled.
    The
amazing aroma was the first thing that hit him when he walked in the door. It
was a combination of tomato, garlic, onion, Italian seasonings, and warm bread,
and it hit his senses with the impact of a pile-driver. He stopped for a
moment, puzzled. Why would caterers be in his kitchen? They had no event
tonight that he remembered. No dinner, no cocktails. Did they get something
wrong on the schedule? But then again, he thought, even when the caterers
showed up, nothing ever smelled like this.
    Dropping
his keys and his briefcase in the hallway, Mason pulled off his overcoat and
hung it in the closet before making his way to the kitchen. Where his jaw
dropped.
    Emma’s
back was to him, but he could see the small beads of sweat that had gathered