Natasha leaned against the counter next to Serenity. “A few of them came into the office looking for houses to rent or buy, and they were rude, acting like because we live in a small town, I wouldn’t know how to sell a house.” She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with people.” She picked up the next ear of corn.

“What did he look like?”

“Who?”

“The guy in the store.”

Serenity shrugged. “He was all right. I didn’t pay that much attention.” Okay, that wasn’t exactly the truth. The man’s hazel eyes framed by those long eyelashes had grabbed her attention the moment their gazes locked. That had also been part of her irritation. She was far past the age of being worked up over a man. Any man.

Natasha chuckled. “In other words, he looked good.”

Serenity threw away the cobs and wiped the counter where some of the liquid had splattered. Dried out, indeed. Ignoring her friend’s comment, she said, “I think we’ll eat outside, since the weather is nice.” The early-June temperatures had climbed into the low eighties, making it perfect for outdoor dining.

“Okay. I’ll set the table, and you can let me know which candles you want to use.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Natasha started toward the sliding glass door, then stopped. “Serenity, don’t let him get under your skin. You’re a great cook, and it doesn’t matter what he thinks.”

Serenity nodded. “You’re right.” She found the candles she wanted and took them outside, where Natasha was setting the table. Serenity had several different sets of china, ranging from casual to elegant, as well as a variety of patterned cloth napkins. Her friend seemed to always know the best combinations. “I think you need to forget real estate and take up table decorating. You always make everything look so beautiful.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stick with what I know best,” Natasha said with a smile. “Then again, maybe I can use this as a step toward finally using my interior design degree.”

Laughing, Serenity went back inside to roll out the dough for the French bread. Soft jazz played in the background, and soon she was lost in the one place that soothed her. She’d gotten her love of cooking from both her grandmothers and, as a child, while her sister and cousins were outside playing, preferred spending her time in the kitchen beside them, learning and listening. They’d shared not just recipes but also their hearts. Every ingredient was filled with love and the taste, divine. Serenity applied that same love when she cooked. By the time she finished the sweet, sticky teriyaki glaze that would accompany the grilled salmon, she had forgotten all about her earlier encounter.