Chapter 8

Once inside the house, Scott ushered James through to his lounge. Without hesitation James put his jacket on a chair and sat on the sofa.

“Nice place.” James looked around, smiling.

“You always make yourself right at home in other people’s houses?” Scott had to admit, he admired James’s assertiveness, and Scott was quite certain the man wasn’t someone who was easily pushed around.

“I’m a chef. You learn quickly to be the one in charge.”

“I’ve seen a few TV programs. You a Gordon Ramsey or more of a Jamie Oliver?”

“Neither. I see myself as me.” James smiled. “I cook local, fresh, and in season. I’d like a Michelin star one day, but for now, I’ll settle for rave reviews.”

“A man who knows what he wants. I admire that. I always knew I wanted to be a nurse. Despite some very vocal opposition.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” James’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and Scott wondered just what had happened in the man’s past. “So, why didn’t you reply to my texts?”