Amelia laughed. “She’s not going to hate you.”
“She might.”
“Just tell her you love clutter and you have as many subscriptions to magazines as she does. Trust me, she’ll love you.”
“Done. And you should have seen my room when I was growing up. I love clutter.”
She gave him a warm smile as they walked up the steps and onto the porch. Amelia rang the bell and they waited.
The door was opened and a nice-looking guy with short dark hair and a goatee answered.
He grinned. “Hey, you must be Flynn. I’m Jon Perry.”
Flynn shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jon.”
“Come on inside. Oh, and hi, Amelia.”
Amelia gave Jon a grin. “I was wondering if you were going to notice I was here.”
Jon laughed. “Sorry, I’m kind of a fan.”
Jon and Amelia hugged after they came inside. “Laura’s giving herself a nervous breakdown in the kitchen,” Jon said. “Something about meatballs.”
Amelia laid her bag down on the chair next to the front door and shrugged out of her sweater. “Uh-oh. I think I’d better go help her.”
“Would you mind taking these in to her?” Flynn asked, handing Amelia the wine and the flowers. “I don’t know if those will help.”
“They will.”
“Come on into the living room,” Jon said. “She made me clean.”
“You really didn’t need to do that.”
“Oh, I really did. Laura likes her clutter, and normally doesn’t care even when we have company over. Apparently, you’re something special.”
Flynn smiled. “I like my own share of clutter, so I wouldn’t have minded.”
“If only I’d known that before I shoved the entire contents of our living room into the closet. Just don’t open the closets, okay?”
Flynn laughed. “Definitely won’t do that.”
Amelia came down the hall bearing two glasses of wine, a beautiful brunette following behind her with two more glasses.
“Amelia made me leave the kitchen.”
The woman handed a glass of wine off to Jon, then turned to Flynn. “I’m Laura.”
“Nice to meet you, Laura. I’m Flynn Cassidy.”
She shook Flynn’s hand. “Oh, I know who you are, Flynn. I knew everything about you even before you started to date my best friend.”
Jon put his arm around Laura. “She’s sort of into football.”
“More than sort of. I’m kind of a stats whiz, so if you’d like to know your tackles, assists, sacks or interceptions, I can quote any of those statistics for you for any year you’ve played.”
Flynn arched a brow. “Really.”
“Yeah, really,” Jon said. “She’s really annoying about it.”
Laura looked over at her husband. “Really brilliant, you mean.”
Jon nodded, then slid a glance at Flynn. “Yes, brilliant. That’s what I meant.”
Flynn grinned. He could see the connection between these two. It was cute.
“So I’ve attempted to make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner,” Laura said. “I will say up front that I am not a cook, and by not a cook I mean not anything close to the cuisine you’re used to from Amelia. I mean I make basic stuff.”
“I like basic stuff,” Flynn said. “And thank you for inviting me over for dinner.”
“She also lies,” Amelia said, smiling at her friend. “She’s a very good cook.”
Laura shrugged. “If you like home-style food. Or the stuff that comes from cans.”
Jon rubbed her back. “But you can give us CPR if one of us collapses. Or first aid if we fall down the stairs.”
“Amelia told me you’re a nurse,” Flynn said, “which is so much more important than spaghetti and meatballs. Now I know who to call next time I get an ankle sprain.”
Laura let out a snort. “I believe you already have a highly skilled and likely overpaid medical team to take care of those things for you.”
“Then they monitor me and I can’t play. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to ice it and wrap it for me so I can sneak an injury past the team docs?”
Laura laid her hand on her chest and feigned shock. “What? You’d lie to your medical team in order to get game time?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Laura turned to her husband. “I’m sorry, Jon, but I’m leaving you for Flynn. You know how I feel about football.”
Jon gave a resigned nod. “I knew this would happen. I’ve already packed.”
Amelia laughed. So did Flynn.
They moved into the dining room and they all helped Laura serve up the salad and the spaghetti, along with amazing homemade bread, despite Laura’s protests that her meal was nothing but average fare.
“What did you use in the meatballs, Laura?” Amelia asked as they ate.
“Veal, beef and pork. I told you, just basic stuff.”
Flynn could have eaten all the meatballs, but he had to be polite and share. “I don’t know what you consider average stuff, Laura, but these are damn fine meatballs. I’d serve them at Ninety-Two.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
So did Amelia, who said, “I’m thinking of stealing your recipe and serving them at the restaurant.”
Laura looked from Flynn to Amelia. “Now you’re both trying to make me feel better.”
Jon had taken a sip of wine and laid his glass down. “Accept the compliment babe. They’re right. This is exceptional.”
Laura beamed a smile. “Thank you. All of you. I might actually start cooking.”
“Don’t tease me, woman,” Jon said.
Laura laughed. “Oh, shut up.”
After dinner, they had coffee and a buttery cake that Laura said she’d picked up at the bakery.
“I would have liked to make dessert myself, but I pulled a double shift and couldn’t manage it.”
“The dinner was amazing, Laura,” Flynn said as he accepted a piece of the cake. “I appreciate you making dinner. I’m sure finding any spare time to cook is tough with the hours you work. Amelia said they’re somewhat erratic.”