Mint Chip Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 6 by Susan Gillard Read Free Book Online Page B

on the floor and slipped into the
nearly-steaming water.
     
    This was the kind of pampering she
enjoyed—a nice, hot bath when she didn’t really need one because she’d taken a
shower that morning.  Time to soak up the heat, lean her head back and just
be. 
     
    Of course, she couldn’t be for too
long; she wanted to have plenty of time to get ready for her date with Ryan. 
That was another luxury she enjoyed—taking her time getting dressed and
accessorizing, then attempting to do something with her sometimes contrary
tresses.
     
    Heather stuck her feet up out of the
water and wiggled her toes.  She’d chosen clear nail polish, instead of a more
prominent color such as burgundy.  There was such a thing as one’s ensemble
being too coordinated.
     
    When her fingers began to look like
prunes, she reluctantly got out of the tub.  Drying off, she wrapped the towel
around her and headed for the bedroom just as her cell phone started ringing.
    Ryan.  “Hello?” she said.
     
    “Hey, Beautiful,” Ryan said.  “ Are you
getting ready to head over here?”
     
    “In about twenty minutes,” she said.
     
    “Great.  Are you hungry?”
     
    “Starved,” she said.
     
    “So, twenty minutes?  Not ten, not
thirty?”
     
    “I’ll be there at seven, on the dot”
she said.
     
    “Perfect.  See you then.”  The line
went dead.
     
    Heather frowned quizzically at the
phone, and then smiled.  Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that
it was 6:29.  Time to get dressed.
     
    ***
     
    Thirty-one minutes later, at exactly
7:00, Heather stood on Ryan’s front porch ringing the doorbell.  He answered
the door in slacks and a white dress shirt.  Standing aside, he invited her in
with a sweep of his arm.  “This way, Madame,” he said.
     
    “Merci, monsieur,” Heather replied,
dredging up one of the few French phrases she knew.
     
    “May I take your purse?”
     
    “But of course.”  Heather handed it to
him, and he placed it on the coffee table.
     
    “It smells wonderful in here,” she
said, sniffing the mouth-watering aromas emanating from the kitchen.
     
    “Your table waits,” Ryan said.  “And
may I say that Madame looks beautiful?”
     
    “Of course you may,” Heather said,
smiling.
     
    He led her to the kitchen table, where
he held her chair for her as she sat down.  Before her was a salad plate laden
with greens artfully dressed.  One goblet at her place held water; the other
wine. Heather took one look at the presentation and realized that she had
grossly underestimated him.
     
    She said nothing until he sat down
across from her.  “This looks fantastic,” she said.  “Thank you.  Already.”
     
    “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Ryan
said, dropping the formality and grinning in that way she knew and loved. 
“Just wait til the main course.”
     
    Heather took a bite of her salad. 
“Mmm, this dressing is delicious,” she said.  “What kind is it?”
     
    “I made it,” Ryan said simply.
     
    “You made it?  Like, from various oils
and spices and things?”
     
    “Yep.”
     
    “Wow.  Um, okay.  I’m kind of feeling
bad for serving you Wish-Bone dressing.”
     
    “I love to cook,” Ryan said.  “You
don’t.  Yet you made a delicious meal anyway.  I’d call that a win.”
     
    She took another bite of salad. 
“You’re not on call tonight, are you?”
     
    “Nope.  Bill’s catching.  Tonight, I’m
all yours.”
     
    “Promise?”  Heather asked, arching her
eyebrows at him.
     
    “Don’t make me prove it,” Ryan said,
“or we’ll never get to the main course.”  He pushed back his chair and stood. 
“Be right back,” he said.
     
    She saw him open the oven door and
peer inside.  “I believe our main course is ready,” he announced.  Wearing one
oven mitt, he deftly removed the pan from the oven.  On it sat two steaks that
looked absolutely luscious even from several feet away.
    Heather watched him check