Chapter 11
“Nothing like a man and his grill,” Shelly said. She stepped onto the terrace, nodding toward Bennett, who was tending the fire. He was turning skewers stuffed with vegetables and shrimp.
“Just smell that,” Ivy said, inhaling the aroma of garlic and herbs as her gaze settled on Bennett. “Delicious, indeed.”
Ivy balanced the salad and serving utensils, while Poppy and Shelly carried dishes and napkins and silverware to the table. The evening was balmy and fresh—perfect for dining al fresco. While supper was cooking, Ivy had slipped upstairs to freshen up and change into a turquoise sundress with matching sandals that her mother had given her. Though it was a little shorter than she was used to, she loved the color.
“Going to need a plate over here,” Bennett called out.
“Got
