The Drifter by Kate Hoffmann Page A

apparent that he and Eve belonged together. But convincing her to see the possibilities would be difficult. He had a lousy track record with women. And it wasn’t something he was proud of. But a guy could change…if he really wanted to.
    “That’s not how you design a new kitchen,” Eve said. “First you figure out the layout and outline thework areas. Then you pick out cabinetry and countertops and flooring. And then, you decide on the appliances.”
    Charlie flipped through the catalog. “This is why I need help.” In truth, it was important that Eve like his kitchen. He was renovating it for her. If things continued to go well between them, then she’d be spending all her time at his place. He wanted her to feel at home there.
    “Maybe if you told me what you want out of your kitchen, I could give you better advice. Do you plan to do a lot of gourmet cooking or are you more of a thirty-minute meal kind of guy? Are you looking for something that looks fancy or do you want functional?”
    “Yes,” he said.
    “Yes to what?”
    “All of it. I want to make it something a professional, like yourself, would enjoy working in. Why don’t you come home with me and we can discuss all of these points in greater detail?”
    She regarded him suspiciously. “I know what you’re doing,” she said, waving a wire whisk at him. “This isn’t about your kitchen. This is about your…” She pointed to his crotch. “Utensil. I have work to do. I’m doing a cooking segment on a morning news show next week and I have to be ready.”
    “You’re going to be on television?” he asked, grabbing a peeled carrot from a nearby bowl. He took abite, then chewed slowly. “Cool. Are you going to wear that hat? ’Cause it doesn’t do you any favors.”
    She snatched off the toque and tossed it aside. “In fact, I might have my own cooking show. I’ve had a couple of offers, one from PBS and another from the Food Channel.”
    When he’d first met Eve, she’d been a hired chef at the Garden Gate. Now, she owned the place, had written a vegetarian cookbook and was considering television offers. She’d become a different person in five years, at least on the outside. She had people depending upon her and important things to do. And all he cared about was luring her back into bed.
    “We can talk about this later,” he said, closing the appliance brochure and pushing it aside. “I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll see you when you get home.” He turned for the door, but she reached out to stop him.
    “I was just going to walk down to the farmer’s market. Do you want to come with me?”
    “You want me to come vegetable shopping with you?” Charlie asked. “Wow, I’ve had some thrills in my life, but I’m not sure I can handle something that intense. Are we just going to be buying green vegetables, or will there be other colors, too?”
    Eve groaned, shaking her head. “They sell more than veggies there. There’s a really great Mexican food stand at the market and they make the best corn tamales. We could have lunch.” She paused.“And then, I suppose I might want to take a nap afterward.”
    “I could use a nap.” Nap. That had become their euphemism for sex in the middle of the day. They’d spent most of yesterday afternoon “napping,” after they returned from camping.
    Though he needed to start going over his notes for the lectures he’d be giving tomorrow night, Charlie was more than happy to be distracted by her naked body in his bed.
    Eve slipped out of her white chef’s jacket, then grabbed her sweater from the desk in the corner of the kitchen. “Grab those bags,” she said. “I’ve got the list.”
    When they stepped out onto the street, the midmorning sun was warm and the breeze gentle. Springtime in Boulder was his favorite time of the year. And he was glad he’d chosen to spend it with Eve. He grabbed her hand and when she looked over at him, he smiled. “Do you have a problem with