by Lexi Hots
That’s one of the few flaws of growing up on the coast, the summers are long and beautiful but almost every other afternoon in the summer there are showers or thunderstorms. I distantly reminded myself that I needed to get an umbrella to leave in my car.
Walking up to his door, I adjusted my shirt and took a deep breath. I’d act interested, just enough to keep him from being onto my game, and then once two months are up I’d be free. I just had to stick with this for that long.
Pressing the doorbell, I waited with baited breath.
I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, but I tried to calm myself.
The door swung open, and I felt my nerves spike all over again.
Oh my god he was beautiful.
A statuesque man that looked like he was carved out of actual stone. His green eyes met mine and it felt like electricity from the approaching storm was striking right to my core. His skin was a beautiful tan-olive color, his dark hair was loosely curled, kissing his cheekbones and thick angular jaw. He was wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top couple of buttons plucked loose. I could see hints of the muscle he was hiding beneath it, but I tried to keep my eyes on his.
“Kaylie?” he said, sounding surprised. He stepped back, opening the door further. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you,” he admitted, there was something in his voice that let me know he was checking me out as well.
Oh my god.
I never looked at him seriously growing up, he was just a friend of my fathers and he was so much older than me, but now that I was looking at him I could feel my face flushing with color. He was so damn hot. I never got much time to enjoy myself or flirt with boys growing up, since my dad was the hovering sort and wouldn’t leave me alone with any of them.
I wanted to flirt with Mister Richard.
Not that it was a good idea.
I was quiet, my mind racing, as he led me through his expansive house and into the kitchen.
The kitchen looked like someone had torn a page from a home-decorating magazine and turned it into reality. It was almost too perfect, and I suddenly couldn’t decide if I was still asleep or not.
“Here,” he said, offering me an apron.
I only realized, at that moment, that I hadn’t said a single word to him yet.
“Thank you, Mister Richards,” I said, tightening the strings of the apron around my waist.
“You can call me James,” he laughed. Somehow the black apron he put on over his clothes made him even more attractive. I never thought that a man covering up would improve how I saw him, but damn I just wanted to kiss him.
Maybe more.
I wasn’t quite sure what else that ‘more’ could be, but I wasn’t going to question it.
“So, today we’re just going to make some simple doughs, we’re not even going to turn the oven on,” he explained, pulling out ingredients as he walked around his kitchen. “The most important thing to know is that what kinds of fats you use, and whether they’re cold or room temperature, can completely change the composition of any recipe,” he smiled at me and I could feel my heart racing.
“I’ve done this much before,” I admitted.
“Good, then today should be easy for you,” he laughed, pulling out some measuring spoons and cups. “We’ll make three types of dough, here,” he handed me a sifter. “Can you go ahead and sift out two cups of this flower for me?” he asked, pushing a bowl and bag towards me as well. I nodded and did as he said, tingling at the sensation of having his attention fully on me.
“Why did you agree to do this? You don’t seem like you’d need the extra money,” I said, needing to say anything. I was genuinely curious.
“I owe your father, big time, for my career. Without him I wouldn’t be anything, so this is just a small thing to repay him,” he admitted, smiling. I couldn’t believe anyone could think of my father that way, but it was nice to hear how genuine Mister Richards was.
James.
Even just thinking about calling him that was embarrassing, he’d been Mister Richards the whole time I was growing up. I could remember him picking me up from school every once in a while, or going to my birthdays because my dad treated him like family.
It was almost embarrassing how attractive I found him now.
We kept going, his eyes on my hands, and by the end of the lesson I found myself sad to go.
Chapter Three
I forgot to put that umbrella in my car.
I forgot, like a damned food, and now there I was.
Wearing a pale blue thin shirt.
Sitting in my car.
Staring down the raging storm outside.
I didn’t have the forethought to ask my father for Mister Richards’s number. Even if I had it, I don’t think I could bring myself to call it to ask if he could come out with an umbrella. It would be beyond embarrassing to have to admit that I was too much of a fool to remember the storms that happened every single summer.
I didn’t have any excuse to forget, except that I was usually in class during the storms so I wasn’t used to having to pack for them.
Taking a deep breath, reminding myself that I couldn’t be late to my lesson, I grabbed the handle of my door and prepared myself for the dash I was about to undertake. Mister Richards’s face came to mind, and suddenly I felt the strength to go.
Pulling open my car door, I jumped out and slammed it behind me.
My sandals, thankfully, stuck to my feet as I ran.
Who needed a driveway this damn long? Who needed this much land between where people could park, and their front door. I ran up the stairs, and escaped onto the porch. Immediately the chill of being soaked and out of the rain set in. Thunder rolled behind me, like it was angry I got off so easily, and I quickly tapped the doorbell.
I was soaked through and through, looking down I realized my bra was absolutely visible through my shirt. Oh god, at least he used aprons so I could cover myself. I didn’t need him thinking I was throwing myself at him.
The door opened, and his face went from a smile to a look of concern.
“Kaylie, oh god, come in,” he said, pulling the door open further.
“Thank you,” I said, rushing in past him and shivering against the air conditioning. Usually the summers were so hot, so of course he had it running, but I was shivering like it was the middle of winter in a colder state.
“Sorry about this,” I was embarrassed, pulling my shirt away from my chest so that my bra wasn’t as visible. “I should dry off in a couple minutes,” I explained, my teeth were almost chattering from the chill.
“Here, we need to get you out of those,” he said, leading me to the stairs. I followed obediently, surprised by him.
The stairs seemed endless, and I caught myself checking out his ass ahead of me. Usually chefs and bakers were softer, letting the food take control of their physical appearance.
There didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat of him.
Mister Richards was beyond fit, his dark jeans hugged to his thighs and ass, and I had to look away to keep myself from saying anything. I never felt like this about a man, I felt like a dog chasing a treat. It was mortifying.
He stepped into a room, and I followed him.
It was his bedroom.
I knew that he was just going to offer me a way to dry off, but it felt almost too intimate to be alone with him in his room. I stood near the door and watched as he opened a drawer, pulling out a couple things, and grabbed a towel as well.
“Here,” he said, handing me what he was holding. “Go ahead and get changed and dry off,” he explained. “Sorry- if I knew you were here I would have come out with an umbrella,” he explained.
“No, no you’re fine, I’m just dumb and forgot to bring one,” I explained, I could feel how bright red my face was turning. I watched his eyes slid down to my chest for a moment, and my heart beat so quickly I almost felt like he could see it through my shirt.
A clap of thunder
rung out and Mister Richards seemed to realize where he was looking.
“Sorry, I’ll go so you can change, I’ll see you down there,” he said, looking away as he left. Was he really checking me out? I watched as he closed the door behind himself as he stepped out. I couldn’t fight the smile that crossed my lips.
Stripping out of my clothing, I had to peel off my underwear as well. I’d been soaked all the way through by the rain and there was no saving them either. The clothing he left me was a plain dark grey tee shirt, and a pair of shorts that had a drawstring on them. Both of them were too large for me, so I had to roll the waistline of the shorts so that the drawstring wouldn’t have to hang all the way down to my knees.
It made them a little short, showing off my legs, but if the look he gave me was any indication, he wouldn’t mind it.
I sighed to calm my nerves, and toweled off my hair to dry it. It was unwieldy at this length, just below the middle of my back, and I had been trying to convince myself for years to cut it. I liked it, though, because it was the bright red of my mother’s hair. It wasn’t a common hair color, and I loved the looks it got. It was mostly dry, though tangled, and I decided that was good enough.
I bundled up my wet clothing and headed downstairs.
He was in the kitchen, making something on the stove that smelled amazing and sweet.
“Here, Kaylie,” he handed me a mug and I was surprised to see it was hot chocolate. “You seemed cold, so I thought it wouldn’t be too strange for summer,” he laughed, pouring himself a mug as well.
“You didn’t have to,” I said, touched by the gesture.
“I wanted to, there’s no need for you to catch a cold,” he explained.
“Well thank you, Mister Richards,” I said, taking a sip.
“It’s James,” he reminded me. I nodded, still unable to call him by his first name.
Oh my god the hot chocolate was delicious.
It tasted like a mix of dark and milk chocolate, with a little mint, and warmed me from my mouth to my stomach. It was comforting and perfect against the storm outside.
Once we settled in, getting back to the lesson, I couldn’t help but focus more on everything he did and said. Something about him just drew my eyes and mind. I couldn’t complain about that.
“Now, just mix this enough so that it combines, if we overmix it’ll be tough and hard to chew,” he explained, watching as I started. I mixed it a few times, and then showed him and he shook his head.
“No, here,” he said, stepping behind me. One of his hands was on mine on the spoon, the other was on the bowl. “Don’t overmix, but also don’t be shy with it,” he explained. He showed me how thoroughly to mix the dough, and my skin sizzled at the contact.
It felt like I was losing all of that focus I’d worked on.
“There, see how it’s just incorporated, not completely smooth?” he asked, his voice almost directly in my ear.
“Yes,” I said softly, embarrassed at the buzzing feeling that was taking over my whole body. I’d never experienced this feeling before, it was new and strange and so damn intense.
“Good,” he said softly. He stopped, his hand letting go of mine after a pause, and as I turned to look at him I realized how close our faces were. Our eyes met, and I watched as his eyes flicked down to my lips for a moment.
I couldn’t resist.
Leaning forward, without stopping myself, I kissed him.
He kissed me back, our lips warm and soft against each other, tasting of sweet chocolate. I could feel my pulse in my ears, my heart soaring at the sensation, the touch. He pressed my back against the counter, his hands on either side of me on the top of it, and we kept kissing for a couple minutes, getting lost in it.
It was only once the kiss slowed, and he backed away, that I realized what we’d just done.
His face changed too, like he was worried I didn’t want the kiss.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t professional of me,” he said, he must have thought I was upset but I was actually just stunned.
“No, no I’m sorry- I’ve just never kissed anyone before,” I admitted, feeling hot with embarrassment.
“Never? Oh, god, I didn’t mean to-” he started, looking guilty.
“No,I wanted to kiss you,” I corrected him, worried that he’d think I didn’t want this.
“I think we should end today’s lesson here,” he said, stepping back from me.
“We didn’t finish anything, though,” I countered, not ready to leave yet.
“I owe your father too much to take advantage of this, go home and we’ll start fresh tomorrow,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s an umbrella by the door,” he added.
My heart dropped to my stomach, and I bit my lip, turning to leave. Why did I have to mess this up?
Chapter Four
Showing up at his house again felt like a punishment.
I rang his doorbell, like I had every day I’d been there, and yet I wasn’t ready to see him. Would my father be angry at us for kissing? Was I taking advantage of Mister Richards’s feeling of obligation to my family by kissing him?
“Hey, come on in,” he said as he answered the door. His eyes didn’t meet mine, and I could tell he was still feeling guilty. I hated that, I didn’t want him to think that he had to feel that way. I wanted him to know I wanted the kiss too, hell I initiated it!
My mouth felt dry, though, and I couldn’t find the words.
We started the lesson, his voice felt very level and plain. There was no emotion, no hint at the kiss even though it was all I’d been able to think about for the last twenty four hours. I tried to ignore the feelings racing through my heart and mind, and to move on like him, but something just felt so damn wrong with that.
“We’ll let those rise for about an hour, and then we’ll actually bake them today,” he said, his voice warmed a little. “Would you like something to eat while we wait?” he asked, opening his fridge.
I hadn’t eaten that morning out of nerves, so I was more than eager to eat.
“That sounds great,” I answered. I was half starved, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Sandwiches? Soup?” he asked, pulling out a couple things from his fridge.
“You don’t have to do too much,” I said, worried about him going out of his way.
“No problem,” he smiled. “Soup it is,” he set a pot on the stove and started putting some things together.
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked. I didn’t want to be completely useless.
“Here, if you want to help, wash and chop these roughly,” he said, setting a container of mushrooms on the counter.
“Yes sir,” I said, setting to work. It was nice, not just doing instruction, working together like this. I wanted to get to know him better, even though we’d just finally relaxed again around each other. “How did you know baking was what you wanted to do?” I asked.
“Hm,” he said thoughtfully, pouring some stock into the pot. “I didn’t really make a conscious decision until after I worked with your father for a couple years,” he admitted. “I only started working with him to try and make some extra money on the weekends, but I found I really enjoyed myself after a while. I wanted to invent new things, perfect old things, it was a lot of fun,” he explained. “I found myself thinking about it, even when I wasn’t at work, and that’s how I knew I had it bad,” there was a smile in his voice, and it made me smile too.
“I wish I could find something like that,” I laughed, cutting off the ends of the stems of the mushrooms before I chopped them up.
“I’m sure you will, I was 20 before I decided this was what I wanted, you’re still young,” he shrugged.
“I’m 18, that only gives me two years,” I laughed, finishing the mushrooms I started on the onion he’d set aside for me to chop.
“I can’t believe you’re 18, you’ve really grown up,” he laughed, taking the mushrooms he put them in the stock and pulled out a pan.
“I have,” I agreed, looking at him pointedly. He grew quiet and put some oil in the pan. When I handed him the onion, he started browning it.
“Look, I’m not here to corrupt you, I owe your father too much. I’m sorry about yesterday, but I think it’s best if we move past it,” he said sternly. The smell of the cooking onion was incredible, but all I could focus on was what he was saying.
“You’re not corrupting me,” I approached him, careful not to touch or bump him while he was next to the hot stove. “I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I’ve wanted you these last few days,” I admitted, feeling my face shading pink. “I don’t want you to think about my father, or what you think you owe him, you’re here to teach me,” I said simply, careful about how I worded it.
The look on his face told me he knew what I was implying.
“To teach you?” he repeated back, as though he was being careful not to step over any boundaries.
“I don’t know what this is I feel, okay? I haven’t stopped feeling like my whole body was buzzing for the entire last day, and I feel like you could help me figure out why,” I said, trying to make it clear. I was so damn attracted to him, so interested in him, and I couldn’t miss this chance.
I didn’t want him to misunderstand me.
“Your father,” he started again, unable to drop that.
“Think about me instead, James,” I let his name fall from my lips like an incantation. It felt so strange to call him that after knowing him as long as I had.
“Kaylie,” he said softly, his voice was almost a warning, a test.
“Please,” I wasn’t sure what I was specifically asking for, but I needed it.
His eyes were on mine, seeking something, I wasn’t sure what.
I’d give him anything.
He seemed to see that, and closed the gap between us.
His lips on mine this time were a victory. He’d pushed me away and I finally had him pulling me against him. His hands were hot against my skin as we kissed, his mouth was a balm to soothe away my worries. I was lost in it, truely, and when he pulled away for a moment to turn off the stove, it felt like a minute heartbreak.
