Making a Comeback by Kristina Mathews Page B

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    His hands were trembling by the time they got all the beach stuff packed up and carried back to Annabelle’s house. They hung the wet beach towels over the porch railing and stomped off as much sand as possible before going through the back door into her sunny kitchen.
    “Let’s see…food.” Annabelle tossed her sun hat on the counter and pulled open the refrigerator. She bent over at the waist, rummaging through her available produce. “I have some chicken breasts. And carrots…”
    He tore his eyes away from her perfect ass. Glancing around her kitchen, he spied some lemons in a bowl on the counter.
    “We could make soup.” He had some kale that was starting to wilt. And he always kept onions, garlic, and some organic chicken broth in his pantry. “I have some vegetables we could throw in there. Maybe some barley.”
    “Barley?” Annabelle gave him a quizzical look. “For chicken soup?”
    “I guess your kids aren’t big barley fans.”
    “No. They probably won’t eat much of the vegetables either.” She put the chicken and carrots on the counter and crossed the room.
    “I imagine the kids would prefer pasta.” He tried to avoid processed foods, choosing whole grains when possible.
    “Yeah, I think I have some Annie’s.” Annabelle pulled a purple box of organic macaroni and cheese out of the pantry. “Could we use this?”
    “I’m not sure about the cheese packet, though.”
    Laughing, she walked over to him and gave him a shove. “Don’t be silly. I’ll save that to make a double batch next time.”
    “I’ll run next door and grab a few things.” Such as the vegetables and a quick, cold shower. He almost wished he had a bottle of wine to bring over, but then he remembered Annabelle had suffered a head injury.
    And this wasn’t a date.
    So what was he doing combining Annabelle’s chicken with his vegetables? Was he trying to merge their two households and create some kind of family?
    No. Stupid to even think such a thought.
    He couldn’t leave them to starve, though. Yeah, right. Like Annabelle couldn’t pick up the phone and have anything she wanted delivered. She wasn’t helpless. She didn’t really need him. He was just convenient, an easy solution to a problem, a quick fix.
    He just hoped she wouldn’t come to regret using him.
     
     

Chapter 8
     
    It was far too comfortable working side by side with Cooper, making homemade chicken soup. Who would have thought adding lemon zest, thyme, and kale could turn a plain soup into something special? She was starting to think three million would be perfectly reasonable to hire the man as a personal chef.
    He’d actually got her children to eat green vegetables and ask for seconds. She’d more than expected them to pick out the chicken and the pasta shells and leave the rest behind. They normally didn’t eat anything green—not even green Skittles.
    Once again, she handled the bathing, and Cooper took care of the kitchen cleanup. He was just wiping the counter when she came back downstairs.
    “I’ll run over and get my guitar.” He folded the towel and hung it on the oven door handle. “For bedtime songs.”
    “They’re already asleep.” Annabelle brushed her hair off her forehead. “They had a busy afternoon.”
    “Yeah. They did.” Cooper leaned against the counter. An awkwardness rose between them now that they both realized they were essentially alone.
    “I can’t thank you enough…”
    “Stop.” He moved just a little bit closer. “I’ve heard this one already. I’m no hero.”
    She inched toward him, her heart beating faster. “You saved Sophie. That makes you a hero in my book. “
    “I’m sure it looked like a bigger wave than it was. Sophie’s a pretty strong girl.” The space between them seemed to dissipate. “Like her mother.”
    “I’m not that strong.”
    “Yes you are. You’re stronger than you think.”
    “I wish that were true.”
    “Annabelle.” He said her name with a breathless