appliances, it nonetheless featured every
convenience a real cook would want. Apparently Kurt wasn’t much of
one, as everything looked spotless. More than spotless, it looked
like it had never even been used.
Cynthia headed for the massive built-in
refrigerator, where one glance inside confirmed her suspicions. The
shelves sat bare of any food except for a carton of milk, a
six-pack of beer missing one bottle, and an unopened bottle of
pinot grigio.
“Into cooking, I see,” Cynthia said, reaching
into the shopping bag to unload packages of fish and chicken.
“Kind of hard to make stuff for one person,”
Kurt said. He put the three shopping bags he carried on the counter
and started to unload. “It’s usually just easier for me to grab
stuff on the way to or from work.”
“Or you’re wining and dining people, as Blake
told me.” Cynthia took the vegetables as he handed them to her and
placed them in the refrigerator.
“Part of the job,” Kurt acknowledged. He held
up a block of low-fat cheese. “Have you actually eaten this
stuff?”
“Not recently.”
“It’s vile,” Kurt told her. “Mom used to buy
it when she went on one of her diet kicks. You might as well eat
rubber.”
Cynthia ducked behind the refrigerator door,
so Kurt wouldn’t see her face. She tried to stop a giggle from
coming out. Failing, she covered it up by coughing.
Yeah, the stuff was vile, she agreed. If Kurt
could see the contents of her kitchen, he would know she was up to
something. Nothing artificial ever entered its hallowed grounds.
She cooked with real butter, whole dairy products, and fresh
everything. Some would see that and say that’s why she was sort of
overweight. But she knew better. She had a healthy diet and ate
well most of the time. She just also occasionally binged as a
coping mechanism when she brushed up against the scary rooms in her
mind from her childhood. That and the fact that she was vertically
challenged as well as somewhat allergic to exercise didn’t help
either.
She got her humor under control enough to
emerge and answer. “You wanted Carl’s recipes, you got it.”
Kurt scowled at her. “Great. The reward for
having to pose like I think I’m some stud muffin is tasteless food
for the next three weeks.”
“But just think of how the woman who buys
your fantasy weekend will appreciate your awesome body,” Cynthia
said in an overly sweet tone, patting his arm like he was a little
boy she needed to comfort.
Kurt let out a deep sigh. “I’ll be in such a
foul mood from weeks of starvation, I’ll probably scare her.”
Cynthia bit back the laughter that still
threatened to emerge and glanced down at her watch. “We’re a little
off schedule here. I’ve got some things to do this morning, so if
we’re going to work out, we’d better get to it.
Kurt didn’t answer. He had crouched down to
rub Lucky’s belly.
“Or I could just come back tonight for the
gym workout?” Cynthia tried not to sound too hopeful.
“I don’t think so,” Kurt said in measured
tones. There was a gleam in his eye that Cynthia didn’t like. When
he grabbed a leash from the counter, sending Lucky into a barking
frenzy, she resigned herself to the idea that she was indeed going
to have to run this morning. With a sigh, she followed him down the
stairs.
~ ~ ~
Kurt led the way out of his house and onto
the sand. The marine layer from the night before hadn’t yet abated,
leaving the air still thick with moisture and the skies grey
overhead. The cooler temperatures meant that not too many people
were out on the beach. Of course, it could also be because the more
intelligent people were still happily sleeping. Like he wished he
was.
Cynthia trudged beside him, taking two steps
for each of his one. He hadn’t realized just how short she was
until she stood next to him in running shoes instead of her normal
heels. Her outsized personality made her seem bigger somehow, but
the top of her head barely