Calla's Kitchen

by Teresa Crumpton

  Torrance runs a hand through his hair. “Can we have a few minutes?”

  The waitress nods and heads to the kitchen, grimacing. I finish my drink and follow her into my sanctuary.

  Adam keeps pace with me as I make my way in. The staff stop preparing food as I enter. Great. Someone must have reported back to the kitchen staff what happened in the dining room. A few inaudible sounds stream out of my mouth, and Adam squeezes my shoulder.

  “Fuck them,” he murmurs, so only I can hear him.

  Wes steps away from his station, heading toward us, but Adam holds up a hand stopping him. The waitress glances back at us. Frustration is written all over her face. Even though for the life of me I can't place her name right now, I know this isn't an expression I’ve seen on her before. I hastily walk over to the freezer and step in, leaving the door ajar so I can answer questions, if need be.

  “What the hell happened?” Wes demands.

  “Torrance's fiancée!” Those two words are the only ones Adam needs to say.

  An audible groan fills the kitchen.

  “It gets worse. She wants Calla to make her Eggplant Parmesan,” the waitress adds in irritation.

  Trey, Wes, and the staff look at her like she’s got to be joking. I huff from the freezer, knowing it is not a joke. The sound catches everyone's attention, and the waitress shakes her head.

  “No, that bitch is certifiable!” She covers her mouth quickly. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

  “It's the truth,” I respond.

  “Oh, hell no!” Wes explodes, heading for the kitchen door.

  I dart out of the freezer to stop Wes as he storms out. Trey glances at me and shakes his head.

  “The fiancée, right?” He pivots around to face the non-moving staff. “Back to work! We still need to get the food out.” He snaps his fingers, and the silence is broken as our chefs get back to work.

  Taking a deep breath, I move to my station where an appetizer sits, waiting to be inspected before going out. The ticket next to it has a note in Trey’s handwriting that tells me it’s going to Torrance’s table. I study the plate. It’s a dish we went over earlier. It's perfect, yet I still bend down and grab the small jar of belladonna hidden under my workspace. Adam, Trey, and Forest watch me intently as I pick up the plate and carry it, and the belladonna, toward the swinging door, stopping only to make eye contact with them. With my head, I gesture for them to follow then slowly slip out of the kitchen.

  Wes

  My long, quick strides make it impossible for my friends to stop me as I head for Torrance’s table. Kat, the waitress, is practically running to keep up. Overhead, Michael Bublé's Feeling Good plays, adding to my surly mood. I am about ten feet away from their table when Torrance and his wedding party notice me. A few of their expressions are full of concern, including the fucker himself. I stop at the table about twenty seconds before Kat. Two of Torrance's friends smile at me, both giving me a chin-nod. I return the gesture before giving Torrance my full attention.

  I glare at the asshat. “I’m only going to say this once. We will not create a special dinner for you or your guests. We will serve you what is on either the regular or daily menu. If you need to substitute something for allergies, please let us know. Otherwise, your dinner will be prepared as it’s described on the menu in front of you.”

  “That's not acceptable!” the woman Torrance cheated on Calla with nearly shouts. I really want to reach over the table and slap her.

  The guests at the table turn toward her, different expressions of shock written all over their faces, including Torrance’s. I narrow my eyes at her, and a sound rumbles deep in my throat. My eyes move back to Torrance's.

  “Calla was right. It was a very bad idea for you to come here. You can leave at any time.”

  “Wes, I swear we’ll make the rest of the night-” Torrance’s words cut off, and I follow his gaze.

  The kitchen door swings open, and Calla walks out carrying a plate. She heads this direction. Fuck! What is she going to do? Why didn’t the guys stop her? The door swings closed and quickly reopens as Adam, Trey, and Forest dash out after her.

  “Calla, it's not worth it,” I read Trey’s lips. Oh shit! What did she do?

  Calla quickens her pace, arriving at the table before Trey or the others can reach her. She hands Kat the plate, as I stare between her and Trey, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Trey shakes his head at me as Calla pivots and quickly passes him. Giving him her evil smile, she slowly pulls the jar of belladonna out of her coat pocket, passing it to him.

  “I don't think this will be needed.” I take the plate from Kat and hand it to Trey.

  Two of Torrance’s guests smile, and a few others chuckle lightly as if guessing what Calla has done. I glance at them then back at Trey.

  “One of us should hold on to that tonight,” I suggest, and Trey slides the jar in his pocket.

  “We’ll move the rat poison too. Just in case.” Trey’s gaze flicks to Torrance then to his fiancée.

  “Wes, there won't be any more issues. I swear,” Torrance promises, his eyes widening.

  Trey leans closer, so only I can hear what he is about to tell me. “I watched. She actually didn’t put the belladonna on the food. I think she wanted to fuck with Torrance and his bitch of a woman.”

  I take a moment, but I don’t respond. I think Calla’s gag might have actually worked to scare the hell out of Torrance and his fiancée, which is all I care about. Trey takes his leave, and I focus back on the party. Kat explains the specials we have tonight and begins to take orders as I wait with her. We turn to leave, and I overhear the murmurs of a disagreement brewing.

  “…Calla….” one of the guests mumbles.

  With a big shit-eating grin, I saunter back into the kitchen. Adam follows me through the swinging door, with a line of servers on his heels.

  “Wes told Torrance and his fiancée off,” one of the male servers announces.

  Chuckling, Adam adds, “Their faces were priceless.”

  A few of the servers try to mimic the expressions from the table. Kat and I crack up, but even with the laughter, I am still frustrated. So, I walk into freezer for five minutes to literally cool off.

  “Some of his friends were griping as Wes walked off,” one of the other servers comments.

  I saunter out of the freezer and make my way back to my work station. Before I am halfway across the room, Calla runs over, giving me a big hug and knocking me back a little as she plants a kiss on my cheek. Hoots and hollers fill the room. Trey whistles, increasing her blush and my excitement. Quickly, Calla yells at us all to get back to work. From that point on, the night seems to move faster. Soon the staff start cleaning up. Once the dining room is empty and locked, Adam walks through the swinging door with four bottles of our best wine. He pops the corks and pours us five glasses before offering the rest of the staff some. The celebration continues until the wee hours of the morning.

  Chapter 25

  Wes

  The door slams, and I glance down the hall to see Calla kicking off her shoes. She throws her keys and bag down on the hardwood floor before I have a chance to ask what happened. Stomping down the hallway to the living room, she flops onto the sofa, slumps into the couch, and places her feet up on the coffee table.

  “What happened?” I ask, coming out of her spare bedroom and taking a seat next to her.

  She mumbles an explanation, but I can only decipher one word. “Men!”

  I chuckle and rub my eyes with my left thumb and forefinger then push off the couch and walk to the kitchen. I open and close several cabinet doors, trying to remember where she has moved the wine glasses. She’s reorganized the kitchen for no obvious reason. It is one of the things that I both love, and hate, about her. I take that back. There is a reason she does that kind of thing. It’s one of the ways she blows off steam. I finally find two glasses then search the drawers for the corkscrew. The audible pop of the cork makes Calla ju
mp, and she turns toward the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” she grumbles.

  I pour the wine before walking back to the living room with two glasses in one hand, and the bottle in the other.

  “You've had quite a day. So, we are going to have a drink.”

  “You only know the half of it.” She takes a glass from me then takes a long sip. “You picked my favorite Zin. What if I was saving that for something special?”

  “Were you?”

  “No... but you didn’t know that.”

  I shake my head. “True, but it’s not like we can’t easily get you another one. So, tell me about the rest of your day.”

  Calla takes another long sip of her wine as I sit back on the couch, waiting for her to explain. But she keeps drinking. When I look at her glass, it's almost empty. I reach for the bottle and gesture to ask if she wants more. She holds out her glass, and I refill it generously. As I lean back, I place my arm on the back of the couch behind her. She snuggles into my side, and I release a long sigh of contentment.

  “Ran into Max and Caleb. They were making out with their bitchy hostess. I know I shouldn’t be upset. I broke things off with Max, but I don’t need to see the beginning of an ménage à trois as I’m walking from my car to the door.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve watched that.” I chuckle, and she backhands my chest.

  “Is that something you’re into?” She faces me.

  I squeeze her shoulder. I’m not sure how to answer the question truthfully. Because yes, I’d be into watching. But it’s not something I’d do if I was in a relationship with her. I wouldn’t share Calla. Ever.

  “That’s a tricky question. I would’ve watched. And I’ll be honest, Zoe liked to be shared. But that doesn’t mean I’d have that kind of relationship with another woman. Sharing isn’t something that I typically do.”

  In one gulp, she finishes her glass of wine. She sits up, setting her glass on the table, and I do the same. Calla begins refilling our glasses, but I stop her. Pulling her into my arms, I simply hold her.

  “Is there something so wrong with me that the last two guys I dated wanted a non-traditional relationship with a woman that was not me?” she questions as tears begin to fill her eyes.

  “You know it’s not like that. Calla, you’re beautiful. For some reason, you just tend to attract men that like that lifestyle. I’m not sure why they don’t feel confident in making you a part of that side of themselves. Granted, Max is a different story than Torrance, and he might have tried to bring you in after a while. But he probably would have wanted to share you.”

  She sniffles. “I don’t think I would’ve done that. Not sure I ever could.”

  “You never have to. Being vanilla is great, if that’s who you are. But you have to figure that out for yourself.”

  We sit like this for what seems like an hour. That is, until Baggie jumps up on Calla’s lap demanding love. He practically stands on her lap to bump his head against her chin. It is one of the cutest things I have seen the little shit do. And that’s saying something, since I was with her when Ben brought him home to her. I was actually shocked that he had picked a cat for her instead of a dog. But with our schedule, a cat is more practical. Not to mention, this cat is more like a dog, so that probably had something to do with it. I scratch under his chin, and he settles in her lap as she pets him from between his ears, down to his tail.

  His little body vibrates as he purrs. Baggie isn’t a quiet cat. His purrs, at least when he gets going like he is now, are quite loud. I’ve even heard him over the phone before.

  “Thanks, Wes,” Calla finally responds as if she is coming out of a fog.

  “Anytime, sweetheart.”

  Her brows furrow as she glances up at me. Normally, it's Trey that uses words of endearment like that, but tonight I feel the need to start using them. I never used them on Zoe, and Calla knows that, so I understand why she gives me the confused look. I also understand where she was coming from the other day when she said she wasn’t sure about our kiss.

  “Ow!”

  Pulled out of my thoughts, I see Baggie jump off her lap.

  “What did the little shit do?”

  “Nipped at me. I wasn’t petting all the way to his tail, so he was done getting loved on.”

  I chuckle, but check her hand. She waves me off.

  “Is there any more wine in the bottle, or did I finish it off already?”

  I sit forward and grab the bottle. “Almost empty.”

  “You hungry?”

  “I could eat a little something.”

  We both rise from the couch and head to the kitchen. Placing our glasses in the sink, we scavenge for food.

  “You and your quasi-healthy eating sucks. We need to get some real snacks in this place,” I complain.

  “What the fuck? Normally I have something. Crap. I think we finished them off the last time you and Trey were here. Damn.”

  I laugh. “Figures. We were really hungry after that run. Hell, we could’ve eaten the rest after yesterday's run too.”

  “Good point.” Shoulders slumping, she says, “I’m just going to bed then. Night.”

  “Night.” I watch as she heads to her bedroom. As soon as she is out of sight, I make my way to the spare room.

  My sleep is restless, and I can't get comfortable. There isn't enough room in my brain to contain the entire herd of sheep I have been counting. I can't get Calla out of my head. Just as my brain blissfully falls into REM sleep, there’s a gentle rapping on the door that gets louder and louder, pulling me from my slumber.

  I jolt awake.

  Rubbing my face I hear the knock again. “Come in,” I call.

  The handle turns, but the door doesn't open. Fuck, did I lock the door? I didn't last night. I move to slide out of bed when the door slowly begins to open.

  “Wes, can I come in?” Callas whispers, peeking her head in.

  I feel a bit wolfish, having her come in with me barely dressed. She doesn’t care. She simply wants my company, and I am happy to oblige her.

  “I can't sleep,” she explains, her arms crossing over her chest.

  At this moment, she looks completely submissive. I am definitely not going to squander an opening like this, especially with the girl I’ve wanted to dominate for years. She’ll need gentle persuasion, I’m sure, but once I crack this door, she’s going to help me kick it wide open.

  “Get in,” I say, tossing the bed covers up in invitation.

  Calla smiles and doesn’t hesitate for a second. She tiptoes across the room, crawls right in my bed, and snuggles into my chest. Dropping the covers, I wrap my arms around her, pull her in closer, and inhale her sweet scent, slipping into the moment of comfort that we both feel. Calla curls herself into a ball, one arm sliding under the pillow where my head is resting, while placing her free hand on top of mine. Settling in, she lets out a soft sigh.

  Alarms are ringing in my head like a five-alarm fire. What the fuck am I doing? Ben will kick my ass if I fuck her!

  Yet, at the same time, I really want her... damn the consequences. Every dominant knows that some submissives require patience while you break them in. And while I’m positive Calla's a switch, her submissive side is a ticking time bomb that could blow up in my face. There is something just too tempting about the forbidden though, and Calla is definitely that.

  While I’d love to stay noble for her, and Ben for that matter, everything in me is screaming to say screw it. Ben and my brothers be damned. Would they really kill me since she’s the one coming to me in the middle of the night? What the fuck am I supposed to do, kick her to the curb? Maybe if I tell Ben she was distraught? No, he’ll still kick my ass… but it will be fucking worth it.

  “Calla?” I whisper quietly. I’m definitely going to have to tell the fire chief in my brain to turn off the fucking sirens. I’m already suffering pangs of guilt, but the little bastard with the horns on my shoulder is having a field day kn
ocking the dude with the halo off his perch. One way or another, I have to extinguish my desire... and growing erection. I’ll figure out how to deal with the consequences afterwards.

  Her breathing slows and evens out with every rise and fall of her chest. She’s sound asleep. At this exact moment, she’s beyond fucking beautiful. And she is in my bed. Fuck me! I gradually lean my own head against the back of hers. My lips lightly touch Calla's neck in a slow circle of gentle kisses. I just want to be everything for her, even in her sleep. I need her to know I’m here, and I am not going to hurt her. With one last kiss, my eyes grow heavy, and I fall back to sleep.

  Chapter 26

  Wes

  The dream is a rush on all of my senses. One minute Calla’s in the kitchen wearing the black fuck-me dress, and the next… Fuck, this is hot! ...she’s at Crave in a baby pink and lace cami and panty set, with fishnet stockings that go all the way to her sweet little ass. I never would’ve pictured her wearing this outfit in a million years. Shit, not even in my wildest wet dreams - and I’ve pictured her in a lot. It isn’t as risque՛as some of the outfits worn by others in the club. In fact for Crave, it’s pretty modest. But to me, on her toned body, it’s sexy. As. Hell.

  How the hell is she even here? More importantly, how did she find it? These are questions I’ll damn well have answers to before the night is over. The gleam on her face says she’s on a mission.

  “Calla,” I whisper. My voice is too low for her to hear me, but her head whips in my direction.

  When she lays eyes on me, she sexily sways and gyrates her hips to the sound of Feelin’ Love as she saunters toward me. Everyone’s checking her out, and I’m torn between wanting to cover her up and wanting to show her off, publicly claiming that she’s mine. Because there’s no denying she’s smoking hot. And she will be mine. I swear she’s leaving a trail of flames as she shimmies across the black tile floor. Calla ignores all the noise and focuses solely on me while the DJ spins up some Nine Inch Nails. I fucking love this fire inside her. Hell, I may have just fallen a bit more for her. This is going to get really good, really fast.