A Touch Of Frost Read Free Page B

It wasn’t a question, but the sentence implied one just the same.
    “Apparently we live in the same suburb. I’m a five minute walk away.” She nodded down the street to their left.
    “Really.” Jack grinned, overly pleased with how close their homes were. “That’s fortunate.”
    “Oh?”
    “It means we can enjoy a bottle of wine with dinner and neither of us have to worry about driving home.” He walked to the door and shoved his key in the lock. “Do you like red or white?”
    “Either works for me.”
    Jack led the way into his house. The rooms were still pretty bare. He’d left everything with Annabelle when they’d separated. It was a shock for him to realise he hadn’t picked one piece of the furniture that had filled their home. When he cut from his past he’d made the break with nothing but a few favourite suits, his underwear, and the casual clothes his wife had always frowned at.
    He smiled. It felt good to be the only one to decide what he wore or how he furnished his home. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’d pandered to Annabelle in a way he was ashamed of. No woman would ever have that level of control over him again.
    “Wow. You should fire your decorator.”
    Jack glanced back to see Elle smiling at him. “I’d need to hire one first and that isn’t ever going to happen.”
    “Oh, I sense a story in that declaration.”
    He rubbed a hand on his chin. “I might tell you at dinner, but first, let’s pick a bottle of wine.”
    “We’re picking the wine here?” Elle followed him into the kitchen.
    “Yep. Plenty to chose from.” Jack waved his hand at the two wine fridges he’d had installed. That was the other thing he hadn’t let Annabelle keep. His wine collection. “White in the left one, red in the right.”
    “Jesus. You either have a serious drinking problem or you know a hell of a lot more about picking a bottle than I do. Probably best if we let you decide what to have with dinner.”
    “Okay. At least tell me white or red.”
    “I honestly don’t have a preference.”
    “Seriously? You really don’t care?” Was this woman for real? Jack had never met a woman who didn’t know exactly what she wanted.
    “All right. Red. But only because you’re insisting.”
    “Red it is.” Jack opened the door and browser the shelves. “I’ve got a bottle of Rockford’s. Oh, and Petaluma is good. Or we could have Devil’s Lair.”
    Elle laughed behind him.
    He glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
    “You say those names like they should mean something.”
    Jack shrugged. “I guess you’re not a wine-buff.”
    She laughed again. “Not even close.”
    “Well you’ll be easy to impress then.”
    “And what would you chose if I wasn’t? If I knew what was what inside those bottles, which one would you pull out to impress me?”
    Jack grinned. “That’s easy. I’d pull out the $600 bottle of Penfold’s Grange.”
    “$600?”
    He nodded as he turned back to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Devil’s Lair Cabernet Shiraz. At a modest $18, it wasn’t cheap but not expensive either.
    Elle whistled. “I couldn’t bring myself to spend that much money on something I’m just going to drink.”
    Jack stood with bottle in hand and turned to face her. “You don’t just drink wine.”
    “Ah, okay, I’ll bite. What do you do with it?”
    “You savour it. Roll it around your tongue while your tastebuds pick out all the delicate flavours, the robust tang of the timber used in the barrel the wine sat in for months.”
    “Dear God. It’s a drink, not sex.”
    He grinned. “A fine glass of wine can be better than sex.”
    “If that’s the case, you’re doing it wrong.”
    “Well, considering I just got out of a ten-year marriage there haven’t been any women.”
    “And obviously the marriage bed lacked passion or you’d still be in it.”
    Jack jolted. Had his marriage lacked passion? He remembered Annabelle’s frequent requests not to muss up her hair