“I suppose so.” A small smile eased over her sassy lips. “But it’s not my fault you’re so devilishly handsome and a doctor to boot. Honey, you’re prime real estate.”
“Too late to try flattery, ma’am.” His eyes coasted over the brunette beauty, appreciating how the coral dress warmed her creamy skin, and he wondered if she didn’t understand how much of a catch she would be. He noticed other guys turning to get a better look at her when she walked by, but clearly she didn’t notice.
Sophia wiggled her fingers toward him in a prissy fashion. “There hasn’t been such handsomeness around these parts since Channing Tatum came through a few years ago while filming a movie.”
Wes tore his gaze off her and glanced down at his outfit—dark jeans, a pressed white button-down, and a light-gray sports jacket. Seeing nothing that warranted all the attention he’d been receiving, he slid his eyes to his snickering passenger. “Let’s go get this over with.”
“I promise to be the best fake date ever.” She fluttered her long eyelashes, acting silly. The woman was too cute for her own good at times—a trait she’d clearly passed on to her son.
“See that you do.” Wes tipped his head and exited the car. After opening Sophia’s door and helping her out, he braved wrapping her arm into the crook of his as they walked inside.
Both of them all but froze at the door when they spotted the group of women taking up three of the six cooking stations.
Sophia sucked her teeth beside him and whispered, “What is the Knitting Club doing at a date-night cooking class?”
“I guess it’s open to anyone.” Wes uprooted his feet and led Sophia to the only available station, which happened to put them front and center. Each station consisted of a stainless steel prep table and a four-burner stovetop. Ingredients and cooking tools were already placed on the tables in an orderly fashion.
“I saw the flyer for this in the paper,” Sophia said quietly, “and it specifically said for couples and something about a romantic menu.” She groaned. “It’s going to be one long night.”
Wes glanced over his right shoulder and caught Bertie staring. The sly old lady winked, but he pretended not to see her and turned back to Sophia. He twirled two fingers, beckoning her to turn around so he could help tie her apron. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “I may have accidently bragged to Bertie that we would be here.” Sophia stiffened. “I didn’t think they would show up.”
She turned and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, we’re sure to be the main topic of town gossip for a week or two, so at least we can give these dates a break after tonight.”
Oh, she thought she had the upper hand again.
“We’ve only been on two, including tonight. Obviously it’s merely been enough to present a challenge to some insistent ladies, so you can go ahead and count on us upping the ante for a while.” Wes pulled his glasses out of the breast pocket of his jacket before shrugging out of it and placing it on the chair at their station.
“It was one overzealous woman. I think you’re safe now.” Sophia gave him an exaggerated eye roll—something else Collin had inherited from her.
“Oh yeah?” He slid the glasses on and picked up the menu. “The lady who keeps giving out the milk for free was brazen enough to offer me a sample just yesterday. Yes, Sophia, I’m totally safe.” He read over the instructions but glanced up when she made no comment. “What?”
Sophia blinked, looking a bit dazed. “Those glasses are just too much.” She shook her head and snatched the card out of his hand. She seemed engrossed with the selections, so he took a moment to tie on his apron and scan the room.
Several sighs and groans came from the tables to their right. His eyes swept over and found most of the old ladies fanning themselves and grinning at him. Oh, boy, was it going to be a long night.
Sophia let out a hushed snort. “You’re making the geriatric section swoon, Dr. Sawyer.”
Shaking his head, he directed his focus on his fake date. “Please . . . Did you call them the Knitting Club earlier?”
“Yes, but that’s just the front they use for the gossip ring they’re actually running.”
He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair as he stole a quick glance at one of the women. “What’s up with the one glaring at us? She looks familiar.”
Sophia tilted her head and peeped around his shoulder. “Ugh. That’s Bertie’s sister Ethel. She’s the postmaster.”
“Oh, now I remember. That will be my last trip to the post office, I can promise you that.” Wes picked up a garlic press and inspected it. “And who’s the orange-headed lady?”
They both took another peek that way and found most of the old ladies huddled like they were formulating a game plan.
“That’s Trudy.”
“She dropped off an entire pot of catfish stew at the office last week. Best I ever had.” Wes chanced a smile in Trudy’s direction, and she returned it with a wide grin and wave. Her vivid orange hair was such a bright contrast to her dark-mocha skin. Tipping his head, he turned back to the table. He’d learned quickly not to give too much attention, or it would be misinterpreted as an invite.
“Oh yes. That stew has won several cooking contests, but it’s not worth her snooping around. She’s like the private eye of the group.”
A twinge struck him in the stomach. Apparently none of the town’s grannies were safe.
Luckily, the chef stepped behind the counter up front. “Hello. My name is Jake and I’ll be your instructor for this evening. Tonight’s menu will begin with a starter of puff pastry bites stuffed with Brie.”
He was a shrewd-looking man who meant business. Good. Wes was counting on him keeping the group in line.
“The main course will be a seared duck breast in a red wine sauce. It will be served with a medley of sautéed veggies. And lastly, we will prepare a fruit tartlet for dessert.” Jake wasted no time and set into instructing the group on how to put the Brie bites together.
After the starter course, Wes began having such a good time cooking with Sophia that he completely tuned out the peanut gallery’s whispered chatter. He watched her sauté the vegetables with precision. “You’re really good at this, Sophia.”
She sprinkled fresh thyme over the sizzling green beans and tomatoes. “My mother was raised in a kitchen and she raised me the same. I have so many great memories with her either elbow-deep in dough or working her vegetable garden. Always side by side.” She glanced up at Wes, a tenderness pulling her lips into a smile.
“Sounds like we had similar childhoods.” Wes reached over her shoulder and plucked a green bean from the pan, taking a bite and then feeding Sophia the other half. “My brother was always my dad’s shadow and I was my mom’s. While they spent most of their time tending to my dad’s family-owned plantation where they host hunts, I helped Momma with her flower garden and cooking.”
“Aww, I love it. A momma’s boy.” She winked while bumping her hip to his.
“Don’t pick on me,” Wes chided with his own wink as he took the tongs and plated the vegetables for her.
She giggled quietly. “No teasing here. I’m doing my best to make Collin a momma’s boy. Although he’s starting to stand me up any chance he gets if you’re anywhere around.” She bumped Wes’s hip again before moving to gather the ingredients for the tartlet.