Rules of Contact - Page 32/82

   “She’s not my girlfriend, Mia.”

   Mia lifted her gaze to his. “But she could be?”

   He waited for a few seconds before responding. “I don’t know. I haven’t had much luck in that department lately.”

   “This one’s different from the women you typically date, though, right?”

   “Yeah. She’s different.”

   “Good. I want you to be happy, Flynn. No one deserves that more than you.”

   Dammit. He liked it when they teased each other much more than when she got all serious and emotional. He nudged her back. “Thanks, kid.”

   And then she nudged him hard. “Not a kid anymore.”

   He groaned. “Quit reminding me. And hey, how did your meeting go today?”

   “It went well. Everything seems to be on track so far.”

   “I’m glad to hear that.”

   “Me, too. I have another meeting tomorrow. I’ll know more after that, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to go well.”

   He liked this confident side of his sister, this motivation to build something. “I’m sure it will, too. Do you need anything from me?”

   She turned to face him. “Actually, I do.”

   That surprised him. “Okay, sure.”

   “You can pass me the tomatoes.”

   He rolled his eyes. “Smartass.”

   Within an hour they had the lasagna in the oven and the salad had been made. Flynn opened a bottle of wine to let it breathe. Mia had gone to the guesthouse to change clothes and make some calls.

   The doorbell rang, so Flynn went to answer it.

   Amelia looked beautiful. She’d worn her hair down and the wind blew a strand across her cheek.

   “Come on in,” he said.

   “Thanks.”

   She stepped inside and he inhaled a deep breath as she brushed past him. Her scent was always so unique—something sweet like vanilla, but with an exotic undertone. He didn’t know if it was perfume or something she cooked with, but whatever it was, he really liked it.

   “A dress tonight, huh?”

   She turned around. “Too much?”

   He stepped toward her. “No. Definitely not too much. You look beautiful.”

   As if she was self-conscious about it, she crossed her arms. “It is too much. I knew I should have worn jeans.”

   He wound his arms around her and tugged her against him. “I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you in over a week, Amelia. And you come in dressed like that? No, it’s not too much. You look damn perfect.”

   He was going to kiss her but then the back door opened and Amelia took a very large step back and turned around to face his sister.

   “Hello, Mia,” Amelia said.

   “Hey, Amelia. I’m so glad you came tonight. Flynn’s been going all out on dinner to impress you.”

   Flynn frowned as they made their way toward the kitchen. “I have not. I’m just fixing dinner.”

   “Oh, right.” Mia grabbed a glass and began to pour wine. “Like you make smoked oysters, crab salad and lobster lasagna every night.”

   Amelia lifted a brow. “That sounds very good.”

   He shrugged. “I thought it might be.”

   And maybe he wanted to impress her. You didn’t just toss burgers on the grill when you had a chef over to dinner. For Mia, he’d totally do that. For Amelia, absolutely not.

   Mia poured wine for everyone.

   “Let’s go sit in the living room. We have time before dinner.”

   “Is there anything I can do to help?” Amelia asked.

   “No,” Flynn said as they made their way to the living room. “Tonight’s your night off and you’re not cooking.”

   Amelia took a seat on the sofa and Flynn noticed Mia grabbed a spot on the chair, so he sat next to Amelia.

   “You do know I like to cook,” Amelia said. “I cook on my days off, too. It’s not a burden and I’m happy to pitch in and help.”

   “Good,” Mia said. “Because I highly dislike cooking, so you can feel free to be Flynn’s assistant. He’s been barking orders at me for the past couple of hours.”

   “Mia,” Flynn warned.

   Mia laughed. “What? It’s the truth. You’re very cranky in your kitchen.”

   Amelia smiled over the rim of her wineglass, then took a sip. “Most chefs are very particular about their cooking.”

   “I’m no chef,” Flynn said. “But I am particular about how I want things done in the kitchen.”

   “That’s not a bad thing, Flynn. And I’m looking forward to dinner tonight.”

   “How long have you been a chef, Amelia?” Mia asked.

   “About eight years. I started as a prep cook at one of Seattle’s finest restaurants right out of college, then worked my way to sous chef at the same restaurant. After I got married and moved to Portland, I got a position as head chef at a restaurant up there and remained there until Flynn hired me to run the kitchen at Ninety-Two. But I’ve been cooking my entire life. I’ve always had a passion for it.”

   Mia nodded. “There’s nothing like being devoted to something you love.”

   “So true. And what do you do, Mia?”

   “Right now I’m about to graduate with my MBA. I was planning to get a PhD, but at this point I’d like to take a break from school, so I’m looking at starting a business.”

   Amelia’s eyes widened. “Wow. Good for you. What kind of business?”

   Mia looked over to Flynn, who nodded. “I’m laying some groundwork to start a sports management company.”

   “That sounds incredible, Mia. I’d love to hear more about it.”

   Flynn sat back and listened as Mia told Amelia about her plans for starting up her company. The more he listened to his sister lay out her ideas, the more impressed he was with her forethought and organizational skills.

   “It’s definitely a risky venture,” Flynn said.

   Mia nodded. “I agree, but anything worth having is worth the risk, right?”

   “Agreed. But you need to be sure before you move forward that you’re ready to take this on.”

   Mia smiled. “Spoken like a true big brother.”

   “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. I want you to succeed. I believe in you, you know that.”