Home for Love by Ellen James Read Free Book Online Page B

surprises up my sleeve," he said.
    "Oh, I'll vouch for that," she returned, opening the drawer where the plastic forks and spoons were kept. Here was another surprise already—the plastic had been replaced by a set of stainless steel. Kate picked up a spoon and examined it critically. Nothing fancy, but certainly serviceable. She nodded, only to glance over and find Steven watching her sardonically.
    "Well, I'm glad you're finally settling in," she told him.
    "You didn't even notice the new drain board. You're slipping, Ms Melrose."
    "It's a wonderful tray," she pronounced. "But didn't they have it in any color besides olive green?"
    "Will you stop trying to color-coordinate my life?" he grumbled.
    "No," Kate said happily. The best surprise of all today was how comfortable she felt with Steven. She sat down with him and they shared their meal in companionable silence. The omelet was delicious.
    "Did your mother teach you to cook like that?" Kate asked, leaning back luxuriously.
    "No, actually it was my father. My mother's idea of cooking is peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches."
    "She sounds interesting." Kate propped her elbows on the table, while Steven regarded his plate thoughtfully.
    "I suppose she is," he finally replied. "She's always curious about life, always reaching out for more of it. She was the one who'd go out sledding with us, while my father had his head in a book—the perfect university professor." Steven spoke softly, musingly. "My mother couldn't stand to be cooped up like that. She'd been a professional skier, and the career that really made her happy was giving skiing lessons." He chuckled. "She'd have all us kids lined up on the slopes with her other students. She didn't care how many times we fell down."
    Kate was listening intently. "That sounds so exotic to me. All that snow, and skiing from the time you're a kid. I never learned at all."
    "It's not too late. You could start now."
    Kate shivered, just thinking about the cold and the snow and ice. "Actually, I'd do really well in the lodge—with one of those big fuzzy sweaters and a cup of hot chocolate."
    "I'd get you out on the slopes first thing," Steven said. "You'd like it."
    "No, I wouldn't," Kate said stubbornly. "I like driving down hills, not skiing down them."
    "How do you know if you've never tried it?" he asked.
    "I just know, that's all. It's not my idea of fun. What's wrong with that?"
    Now he was leaning toward her. "You're being narrow-minded. That really surprises me."
    She glared at him. "Maybe it's just too much for you—a woman having her own interests. Maybe you just want a clone of yourself, up there on the slopes with you."
    "How the hell did you jump to a conclusion like that?" He glared back at her. "All right, so I think people should be willing to try new things."
    "What if I tried it?" she asked guardedly. "What if I tried skiing and decided I didn't like it? What would you say then?"
    "I'd say you didn't give it enough of a chance."
    Her fork clattered down on her plate. "Talk about narrow-minded," she said in disgust. "You think a woman should want to do everything
you
do."
    "Listen, I grew up and saw my parents not have a thing in common. Two people need to share interests."
    "As long as they're the man's, right?" she taunted him.
    "Dammit, I never said that."
    "You didn't have to. But I think your parents sound charming. A skier and a professor. Variety is what makes life interesting." She gathered up the plates with a great deal more clatter. "Gloria Nestor probably skis," she muttered, but was instantly sorry she had spoken the words out loud.
    "I'll ask her when I see her tonight," Steven said.
    "Fine." Kate stood at the counter, battling a wretched wave of jealousy.
    "She'll be at my client's for dinner. He does a lot of business with her."
    "It's no concern of mine how or when you see Gloria Nestor," Kate said stiffly. "I don't know why you feel the need to explain anything to me."
    "I don't know why, either,"