This week’s #teasertuesday is from Sunset at Pencarrow which I co-wrote with Lou Sylvre.
Nate turned off the water, toweled himself dry quickly, and yanked on his clothes. When he reached the bedroom, he was surprised to find it empty and the pile of blankets Rusty had slept on neatly folded on the end of the bed. He heard voices in the kitchen and hoped Amy wasn’t telling Rusty anything she shouldn’t. Nate ran a comb through his hair, glanced at himself in the mirror, and walked, he hoped nonchalantly, out to the kitchen.
Rusty sat at the table, nursing a cup of what smelled like coffee, an empty bowl in front of him. He gave Nate a smile, and Amy looked up from the pantry. She had a couple of cereal packets in her arms—the only two kinds they had.
“Morning,” Nate said to Rusty. “Hope you slept well.”
“I slept really well, thanks,” Amy said. She grinned at him, then had the decency to at least look apologetic. “Sorry about last night. I didn’t realize you were bringing a date home. Thought you were supposed to be in Christchurch?”
“It’s not a date,” Nate and Rusty said at the same time.
Nate’s face flamed again but he averted his gaze so he didn’t notice whether Rusty’s did as well.
“Our flight was delayed because of the fog,” Rusty explained. “Nate was kind enough to offer me somewhere to stay for the night. The airport chairs didn’t look all that comfortable.”
“Nate’s good like that,” Amy said, giving Rusty a huge smile. “He’s a good guy. I wouldn’t be flatting with him otherwise.” She put the cereal boxes on the table. “And your choice for breakfast this morning is…Weet-Bix or muesli. Or if they don’t work for you, we have toast with an amazing variety of spreads to go with it.” She turned back to the pantry. “Let’s see. Vegemite, Marmite—because some people have no taste—jam, and peanut butter.” Amy picked up the peanut butter jar and peered inside. “Sorry, no peanut butter. Someone used it all, put the empty jar back in the cupboard, and didn’t put it on the shopping list.”
“Ask your boyfriend,” Nate muttered. “He eats all the food and never replaces it. And,” he added, “there’s nothing wrong with Marmite. Not my fault if you eat that other stuff.”
Rusty looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “Whatever you have will be fine, thanks, although I’ll pass on the Vegemite and the Marmite.”
You can read more of this story here
