After Carolyn left, Jenna went ahead with her plan. She put together a menu, then looked in Derek’s fridge and cupboards—only to find them bare, apart from coffee beans, some milk that was close to its expiration date, and mustard. He had pots and pans, but they looked brand new and unused, as if they were nothing more than props. But, apart from his office and the room where he kept his gear, the entire condo was like that—beautiful like something from a magazine but not homey.
She ordered groceries and wine online and let security know to expect a delivery. She wasn’t a great cook or particularly domestic. She’d eaten a lot of carry-out during her life, too, but she could make a roast chicken as well as anyone.
It was time someone put this beautiful kitchen to use and gave Derek a home-cooked meal in his own home.
* * *
Derek shotJenna a text to let her know he was on his way home. He would see what she felt like having for dinner and maybe pick up some take-out from the sushi place downstairs. He drove home in his Range Rover, parked in the garage, and took the elevator up to his floor.
When he opened his door, he was hit in the face by the delicious scent of roasting meat. He stepped over a pair of Jenna’s shoes, walked through the entryway—and found his immaculately clean kitchen a mess. There were dirty dishes in the sink, pots and pans on the stove, a dish towel in the middle of the floor.
Unaware that he was there, Jenna stood at one of the counters, slicing vegetables for a salad and wiggling her sweet ass in time to music playing in little pink earphones. He stood there for a moment, took in the scene, watched her, warmth stirring in his chest. The last time someone had cooked a meal in this kitchen was …
Yeah, never.
“Hey.”
She jumped, shrieked, and tugged out the earphones.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He walked over to her, wiped a smudge of flour off her cheek. “You’ve been busy. What’s all this?”
She looked around, too. “I thought it was time you had a real meal and not MREs or take-out. Sorry about the mess. I meant to have it cleaned up and the table set before you got home.”
Hell, he didn’t care. “It smells delicious.”
“How was PT?”
“Painful.”
“I can massage your shoulder after dinner if you like.”
“Will that help?”
“It might.”
The foodwasdelicious—roast chicken, buttered potatoes, a fresh salad, white wine, and a chocolate cake she’d made from scratch.
He shared news he knew she’d be happy to hear. “Malik was discharged today. He’ll be on a flight home tomorrow.”
He’d been the last of the five of them still in the hospital.
“I’m so glad to hear that.” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, tracing her fingertips along the stem of her wine glass in a way that immediately had Derek thinking of her stroking his cock. “I picked out my dress.”
“Your dress? Oh. Right. Good.”
“You don’t get to see it till tomorrow night.”
Now he was intrigued. “I can’t wait.”
They were in the middle of loading the dishwasher when Derek’s cell rang.
“Turn on CNN,” Corbray said. “Hamilton has just resigned. Word is investigators agreed to end their probe if he left office.”
Shit.Typical.
“Thanks.” Derek ended the call. “That was Javier. Your father just resigned.”
“What?”