Page 56 of Snowed In with Benefits

“Rice! Coming right up. Yellow rice? White rice? Jasmine rice? What are you feeling?” He looks at me, his eyes enraptured behind his glasses.

Laughing, I tell him to grab the jasmine rice. I find some meat, some seasonings, some veggies, and get them all arranged on the counter with Hunter at my elbow the whole time, helping me find stuff, asking me questions, looking more eager than I’ve ever seen him. It’s truly adorable.

I go to wash my hands and I wince. The water is hot and stings the cracks in my hands, around my nails and in the creases. Hunter, of course, notices immediately.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head, then nod. “I’m just not used to the cold, dry air up here. It’s hell on my hands.”

“It can get pretty rough,” he agrees. “Go easy on them, they’re getting used to it.”

I smile up at him. It’s cute how he talks about my hands like they’re naughty children or puppies or something. I dry my hands and wash the rice, which only gets them wet again. Once the rice is on the stove, I start chopping up the meat and veggies.

“So what do you call this meal?” Beau asks with a little wink. “Luncheon a la Josie?”

“I call it rice with meat and veggies,” I shoot back.

Hunter laughs. “It needs a better name than that.”

“It does not,” I argue. “It’s a good solid meal, that’s all it needs to be.”

“Yeah, but it’s a good solid meal that you made. It deserves a name.”

“Fine,” I say, sending a wink back at Beau. “Luncheon a la Josie it is.”

Beau cackles. Emmett snorts. Hunter looks pleased with himself. I feel lighter and happier than I’ve felt in a long, long time, and I find myself humming as I make the food. A little broth, a little butter, some seasonings, some browning, making everything edible without going overboard. I don’t know how to go overboard properly, and I’m not about to ruin a hot meal trying to be creative.

After I’ve fried up the cooked rice in the same pan that I cooked the meat and veggies, I gesture for bowls. Hunter grabs them for me since he’s still right here, and I start serving up food for everybody. I give Hunter his and he gives me a look, then piles another spoonful into his bowl. Laughing, I pile food into the other bowls and Hunter helps me bring them to the table.

As we sit down, I look at the bowl itself. It’s one of the carved wooden bowls that Emmett made, and it’s beautiful. I arrange it on the table so that it catches the light, so the shadows highlight the intricacies of the patterns, so the food takes a back seat and emphasizes the bowl rather than being the focal point.

“She’s playing with her food,” Beau says to Hunter.

“She’s playing with her bowl,” Emmett corrects him.

“She’s arranging a shot,” Hunter says quietly, and I point at him.

“You don’t even have your camera with you,” Beau points out.

“That’s okay, I don’t need to take every picture I see. I just like to see them. Maybe I’ll take this picture some other time.”

“Of the food?” Emmett asks. He sounds a little flustered, which makes me feel a little self-conscious.

I shrug. “There’s beauty everywhere. Even in food.”

“Especially your food,” Hunter says around a bite. “God, this is good.”

I giggle, appreciating the way he appreciates my cooking. Beau rolls his eyes again, but he’s almost smiling this time. He nods in my direction.

“How do you decide what to take a picture of?”

I look around the table and find them all watching me, waiting for an answer. I suddenly feel like a professor or a tutor, and the feeling doesn’t feel wrong. I don’t know everything there is to know about photography, but I know what I know and I know how I work, and that’s what he’s asking about. I don’t have to get into the theory of photography, I can just talk about myself. That’s a new experience too, but I’m not afraid of it.

“I’ll show you,” I tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

I get up and head upstairs. My camera is sitting exactly where I left it and I grab it, then go back downstairs while I turn it on. It’s sweet of them to be interested, and they all seem to be genuinely interested. Even Emmett, which is surprising. I’m not going to look that gift horse in the mouth, but I am going to file the fact away for later.

Back in the kitchen, I look at the shot I was setting up with my bowl. I focus on it with the camera, then gesture for them to come look at the screen with me. They crowd around, all three of them, and look at what I’m seeing. I point it out on the screen.