“Your soufflés were wonderful—the lemon one in particular. Thank you.”

His face simply lit up, Del thought, as if Laurel had switched on electricity. “You liked them? When I heard you were here I wanted to do something for you. The lemon. You liked the lemon?”

“Especially the lemon. Rich and fresh at the same time.”

“We don’t serve it yet. It’s new. I’ve been working on it.”

“I think you’ve perfected it. I don’t suppose you’d share the recipe.”

“You ...” His voice went breathless. “You want my recipe? I’ll write it down. Right now. I’ll write it down for you, Ms. McBane.”

“Laurel.”

“Laurel.”

Del swore her name came from the man’s lips like a prayer. When he scurried away to get the recipe, she turned to Del.

“I’ll be right back.”

When she walked off with Charles, Del slipped his hands in his pockets and glanced around. Julio guzzled from a water bottle and eyed him.

“Pork medallions.”

“That’s right. They were excellent.”

“Mr. Brown.” Julio acknowledged his due, then shifted his gaze to Laurel, back to Del. He said, “Hmm.”

He capped his water before striding over to where Laurel huddled with Charles. “I’m still mad at you.”

She shrugged.

“You left my kitchen.”

“With plenty of notice, and I came in on my own time to help train my replacement.”

“Your replacement.” He cursed and sliced a hand through the air. “Useless. He cried.”

“Some of them do once you’ve chewed on them awhile.”

“I don’t need crybabies in my kitchen.”

“You’re lucky to have Charles. Luckier if he stays and puts up with your crap.”

“He does okay. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t talk back.”

“Give him time. I’ll get you that recipe, Charles. I think it’s a good trade.” She tucked the one Charles gave her in her bag.

“Thank you for coming back. It means so much to me.”

“I’ll see you again.” She shook his hand, then turned back to Julio. “The snapper was fabulous.” She kissed his cheek. “You bastard.”

He let out a laugh that boomed as effectively as his curses. “Maybe I’ll forgive you.”

“Maybe I’ll let you. ‘Night.”

Del ran a hand down her back as they walked outside. “That was a very nice thing you did, on both counts.”

“I can be nice.”

“You’re like a lemon soufflé, Laurel. Just the right blend of tart and sweet.” As he brought her hand to his lips to kiss, she blinked at him.

“Well. Somebody’s going to get lucky tonight.”

“I was hoping.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MOVING AS QUIETLY AS POSSIBLE IN THE DARK, LAUREL CREPT TO the bathroom to change into a sports bra and bike shorts. She had to start remembering to get her workout gear together the night before when Del stayed over.

That’s what Parker would’ve done, she thought as she wiggled into the shorts.

She clipped up her hair, pulled on her socks, then decided to carry her shoes. As she eased the door open she let out a strangled gasp. Del sat on the side of the bed, illuminated by the bedside lamp.

“What, do you have superhearing? I was quiet.”

“Reasonably. Working out? Good idea. I’ll dig up some gear and join you.”

Since he was awake anyway, she sat to put on her shoes. “You can leave some stuff in here next time.”

He smiled a little. “Some of our tribe are sensitive about such matters.”

“I’m not.”

“Good. Neither am I. Makes it easier all around.” He glanced at the clock, winced. “Mostly.”

“You can go back to sleep. I won’t hold it against you, or think you’re a wimp. Or soft. Or lazy.”

He squinted at her. “I’ll meet you in the gym.”

“Okay.”

She strolled out thinking it was a good way to start the day. Teasing Del, getting in an hour’s gym time followed by a hot shower, hot coffee, and a solid day’s work.

In fact, it was pretty damn perfect.

In the gym she found Parker already doing cardio to CNN.

“Morning,” she called out.

“Good morning.You look awfully damn chipper.”

“Feeling awfully damn chipper.” Laurel got a mat from the rack, unrolled it on the floor for warm-up stretches. “Del’s coming in to work out.”

“Which explains the awfully damn chipper. How was dinner?”

“It was good. Really good. Except ...”

“What?”

Laurel glanced toward the door. “I don’t know how quick he’ll be. Later.” Stretching, she studied Parker’s exercise tank and capris. The chocolate brown pants and floral top managed to be serviceable and feminine. “I should probably get some new exercise outfits. I think most of mine are getting tatty.”

She walked over to take the second elliptical. “How long have you got in?”

“Just passing thirty.”

“I’d better catch up.”

“No chance, I’m coming up on mile three then switching to pilates.”

“I can do three, then I’ll see your pilates with some yoga. Maybe I’ll do four. I had soufflé last night.”

“Worth the extra mile?”

“And then some. They’ve got a solid dessert chef at the Willows.”

“Charles Barker.”

“Do you know every damn thing?”

“Yes,” Parker said with satisfaction. “And there’s my three.”

Parker wiped down the machine, switched off the news, switched on music.

“Morning, ladies.” In ancient sweat shorts and a faded T-shirt, Del grabbed a bottle of water out of the case, took out another for Laurel, then headed for Parker’s machine.

“Thanks,” she said when he tucked her water in the holder.

“Gotta stay hydrated. What did she do?”

“Parker? Three. I’m going for four.”

He stepped on, set a program. “I’m up for five, but I won’t hold four against you. Or think you’re a wimp.”