All Wound Up Page 61

That was something she didn’t intend to think about tonight. Not when she was having so much fun.

She took another swallow of wine and decided to ponder the thought of a house instead. She’d always intended to buy a house after she got settled . . . somewhere. After residency, when she figured out where she’d end up practicing medicine.

What prevented her from buying now, though? She could always sell if she decided to move for work. Just the thought of being able to plant a garden, grow some tomatoes and herbs, excited her.

It was a sudden epiphany. She could sell her condo and buy a house.

“What are you thinking about over there? You went quiet all of a sudden.”

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about how I’ve put things on hold until after my residency. Things like buying a house. And then wondering why I couldn’t just do that now.”

He finished off his glass of wine, then set it on the table. “No reason you couldn’t buy now, is there? Unless you’re going to be moving.”

“I could apply for a fellowship to a hospital in another state. But I like the hospital I’m working in. And St. Louis is my home.”

“So your ultimate goal is to stay here.”

She’d never thought in those terms before, had always kept herself in the here and now, refusing to think that far down the road. “I don’t know. Maybe that is what I’m saying.”

“So buy yourself a house, Aubry. Do whatever the hell it is you want to do. You’ve worked your ass off these past few years in medical school and residency. Isn’t it time you reap the rewards of that?”

She stared at him.

He smiled back at her. “What?”

“No one has ever told me to just go for it before, to do whatever I want to do.”

He leaned forward and grasped her hands. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Then let me say it again. You should do what you want to do. Whatever it is you want to do. Because you deserve to have whatever makes you happy.”

Something inside her heart clenched. She didn’t know what it was, and sitting here with a cooking instructor monitoring them wasn’t the place to dissect it.

Or maybe she did know what it was, and this either wasn’t the time or place, or she wasn’t ready to face it yet. So she tucked it back into her heart and brushed her lips across Tucker’s.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now how about that biscotti?”

TUCKER NEVER THOUGHT HE’D HAVE HIS TRUCK PILED up with fancy pots and pans and gadgets to make food. But as he carted all the boxes into the house, he had to admit, he was pretty excited.

Now he just had to actually use it all. Which he would, right away, since his brothers Barrett and Flynn were coming over. He and Aubry had decided they should cook together, and when he told her his brothers were flying in for a visit, she suggested they cook for them.

His brothers definitely liked to eat, just like he did. They’d make good guinea pigs for him and Aubry.

Since their cooking class two weeks ago, he and Aubry had bought a few cookbooks and tried out some recipes. Nothing too fancy, but they’d made some dishes. Successful ones, too. But his supply of cookware and accessories was limited, and they always seemed to end up at his place, so he had decided to do a little shopping and stock up.

He might actually have a knack for this cooking thing. If nothing else, he’d eat a lot less take-out food. And that wasn’t a bad thing.

He had everything washed, dried and put away when the doorbell rang. It was Aubry, holding two bags of groceries.

“There’s more in the car,” she said. “If you’d like to go get those, I’ll start putting these away.”

“Okay.” He went out and grabbed the rest of the bags, shut the trunk of her car and came back inside.

“I’m making guesses as to where you want this stuff,” she said as he laid the bags on the island.

“Wherever you want to put things is fine.”

They unloaded all the bags, then Aubry leaned against the island.

“Okay. I got amazing salmon steaks. I’m already hungry just thinking about it.”

“Me, too.”

“When do your brothers get in?”

He grabbed his phone and checked the time. “They should be here soon.”

“I also bought beer. Like, lots of beer. You said the guys like beer.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I noticed the beer. I already had some, but they drink like fish. I think we’ll have plenty.”

“I got wine, too, which is chilling in the fridge. I should probably start the marinade for the salmon.”

She started toward the fridge, but he grabbed her hand. “There’s no hurry on that, Aubry. You should open the wine, pour yourself a glass and relax.”

She looked at him like he’d just sprouted two heads. “Relax? We’re cooking for your brothers tonight. How am I supposed to relax? I’m still a novice at this cooking thing, Tucker.”

“And my brothers eat hot dogs from the microwave. They’re hardly culinary connoisseurs. So . . . chill, okay?”

She took a deep breath, then let it out. “Clearly, I’m slightly nervous about this. You and I playing in the kitchen together is one thing. Cooking for someone else is different.”

He pulled her toward him, brushing his fingers against her hand. “They’re not someone else. They’re my brothers. You could fix them a bowl of cereal and they’d be happy. Just relax.”

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