Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [61]
“Medium rare.”
“With steaks this size, that’s about eleven minutes on each side.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re very precise about all this, aren’t you?”
“I promised you a good steak, and I intend to deliver.”
In the little while it took to cook the steaks, Garrett watched Theresa out of the corner of his eye. There was something sensual about her figure, outlined against the setting sun. The sky was turning orange, and the warm light made her look especially beautiful, darkening her brown eyes. Her hair lifted tantalizingly in the evening breeze.
“What are you thinking?”
He tensed at the sound of her voice, suddenly realizing he hadn’t said anything since he’d started cooking.
“I was just thinking about what a jerk your ex-husband was,” he said, turning toward her, and he saw her smile. She patted his shoulder gently.
“But if I was still married, I wouldn’t be here with you.”
“And that,” he said, still feeling her touch, “would be a shame.”
“Yes, it would,” she echoed, their eyes lingering for a moment. Finally Garrett turned away and reached for the tallow. Clearing his throat:
“I think we’re ready for this now.”
He took the tallow, which had been cut into smaller pieces, and put the pieces on the briquettes, directly beneath the steaks. Then, he leaned over and blew on them until they burst into flame.
“What are you doing?”
“The flames from the tallow will sear in the juices and keep the steak tender. That’s the same reason you use tongs instead of a fork.”
He threw a few more pieces of tallow onto the briquettes and repeated the process. Looking around, Theresa commented:
“It’s so peaceful out here. I can see why you bought the place.”
He finished what he was doing and took another drink of beer, wetting his throat. “There’s something about the ocean that does that to people. I think that’s why so many people come here to relax.”
She turned toward him. “Tell me, Garrett, what do you think about when you’re out here alone?”
“A lot of things.”
“Anything in particular?”
I think about Catherine, he wanted to say but didn’t.
He sighed. “No, not really. Sometimes I think about work, sometimes I think about the new places I want to explore on my dives. Other times, I dream about sailing away and leaving everything behind.”
She watched him carefully as he spoke the last words. “Could you really do that? Sail away and never come back?”
“I’m not sure, but I like to think I could. Unlike you, I don’t have any family except for my father, and in a way, I think he’d understand. He and I are a lot alike, and I think that if it wasn’t for me, he would have taken off a long time ago.”
“But that would be like running away.”
“I know.”
“Why would you want to do that?” she pressed, somehow knowing the answer. When he didn’t respond, she leaned close to him and spoke gently.
“Garrett, I know it’s not any of my business, but you can’t run away from what you’re going through.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “And besides, you’ve got so much to offer someone.”
Garrett stayed silent, thinking about what she’d said, wondering how she seemed to know exactly what to say to make him feel better.
For the next few minutes, the only sounds around them came from elsewhere. Garrett turned the steaks, and they sizzled on the grill. The gentle evening breeze made a distant wind chime sing. Waves rolled up on the shore, a soothing, continuous roar.
Garrett’s mind drifted through the last two days. He thought about the moment he’d first seen her, the hours they’d spent on Happenstance, and their walk on the beach earlier in the day when he’d first told her about Catherine. The tension he’d felt earlier in the day was almost gone now, and as they stood beside each other in the deepening twilight, he sensed that there was something more to this evening than either of them wanted to admit.
Just before the steaks were ready, Theresa went back inside to get the rest of the table ready. She pulled the potatoes out of the oven, unwrapped the foil, and placed one on each plate. The salad