Married This Year 2: Simmering Love

by Tracey Pedersen

  It had helped that he hadn’t once commented on her appearance; the difference it made surprised her. She hoped he would continue that trend today and not force her to consider her own personal hang-ups. It was inevitable that he would raise it at some point, but she wanted to enjoy this adventure a little more before that time came.

  They walked to the car hand in hand, ready to start their day together. Henry opened her door and gave her a last sweet kiss before helping her into her seat. As he started the ignition, he announced that they were driving to Rosebud to eat the biggest burgers in the world.

  She smiled to herself. She now had two hours to get to know him better.

  ***

  The Spitfire Café did, indeed, have the biggest burgers Rachel had ever seen. They came served on wooden platters with a steak knife down the centre to hold the contents together. Not realising how large they’d be, they’d ordered hot chips and milkshakes, as well. Eating everything that was now on their table was going to be an enormous challenge.

  “This is like one of those places where, if you manage to eat all the food, you get it free.” Henry joked as he pulled a piece of bacon from his burger.

  “I’ll never win one of those challenges, although I could if it was stretched out over the day.” Rachel laughed as she watched him try to pick up his burger. It was no use, and they both had to eat with a knife and fork, or risk the whole meal falling into their lap.

  Rachel gave up before she’d eaten her whole burger, but Henry made an admirable attempt to finish. He was down to the bottom of the bun and a piece of lettuce before he gave in and pushed his plate away. They were so full that the dinner plans they’d made on the drive down had no chance of happening, so they paid the bill and crossed the road to walk up to the jetty they’d seen earlier.

  Rachel pulled out the hats they’d packed and they held hands and enjoyed the scenery as she told him some of the details of her advertising job. The early afternoon sun was warm on their backs as they found the jetty and set out to walk to the end. Fishermen dotted the sides, casting their lines, hoping to take home a fresh fish or two for dinner.

  “Do you fish?” she asked.

  “No, I… oh!” His reply was cut off as his cap was ripped from his head. He turned to see who had stolen it and watched in amazement as the red cap flew through the air and sailed out to land on the surface of the water metres away. “Hey, what happened?”

  A guilty fisherman turned toward them and they had their answer. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realise anyone was behind me. I’ll pull it in.” He wound in his reel as Rachel looked on. The red hat skipped across the water and was pulled up to dangle on the end of the line in front of them. The angler twisted the hook around, and after a little bit of jiggling, it came free. He handed the hat to Henry with an apologetic smile.

  “Lucky you were wearing that. Otherwise, I would have hooked your head!”

  “Very lucky,” Henry laughed and shook his wet hat before perching it back on his head. He took her hand and pulled her back toward the beach. “Come on, we have to get away from these maniacs. That could have been an eye!”

  Rachel laughed as he pulled her along. “You should have seen your face when your hat flew off.” She kept giggling and he slowed their pace once they were clear of any fishermen on the path back to their car. “Funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” she gasped.

  “Funnier than Luke crying after he landed in the jump zone?”

  “Well, no, not funnier than that!”

  ***

  “I had an amazing day today. I don’t want to take you home, but I have an early shift tomorrow.”

  “It’s alright. I have some work I need to do.”

  He kissed her, wrapping his fingers in the back of her hair, and starting those thrilling sensations she associated only with his touch. “My week is ridiculous, but Thursday night is free. Can I invite myself to your house for dinner?”

  Oh God. I’ll have to cook! Say no!

  “Umm… sure. You wouldn’t prefer to eat out? I don’t create the most interesting things in the kitchen.”

  Please, please let him say we can go out!

  “Not at all. I eat restaurant food all the time; I don’t mind the odd home cooked meal.”

  You might get more odd than you bargained for!

  “Right, well, what do you like to eat?”

  “I’ll eat whatever you dish up. Make something easy, so you don’t spend all night in the kitchen. How about a curry?”

  “Uhh… okay, great choice. That shouldn’t be too hard,” she stammered.

  His finger traced along her jaw as he looked into her eyes, and she couldn’t help but stare back. She still hadn’t gotten used to whatever it was about him that attracted her. He was enigmatic, fun, and had that special something that drew people to him. Whatever it was, she wanted to experience more of it. Battling through one meal in the kitchen was surely worth it?

  He pulled back and started the car with a contented sigh. She nodded off in the car on the drive home, and soon they were parked outside her house. Rachel was unsure of what she should do. Would he expect an invitation inside? No, he’d said he had an early start tomorrow.

  Phew. I’m off the hook on that one, then. It’s way too early to be inviting him inside, no matter how much I’m tempted.

  “Okay, well I’ll see you on Thursday night, then. About seven?” Her voice wavered at the thought of cooking for him, even though it was days in the future.

  “That sounds good.”

  As always, he shot out of the car to come around and open her door. When she was standing on the pavement, she turned to thank him. “I’ve never had someone open the car door for me like you do. I feel awkward waiting for you.”

  He laughed and pulled her against him. “Don’t feel awkward. It’s only awkward if you don’t wait for me and you get yourself out—it ruins all the old school charm of a nice gesture.” His hands slid to either side of her neck and she prepared herself for the kiss she hoped was coming. He moved closer, his lips teasing her without making contact. “Thanks for today,” he murmured.

  For a moment, she wanted to forget her previous decision and drag him inside with her to do all the crazy things she’d been imagining today. When he kissed her, she clutched at his shirt, like she had yesterday. They stood that way for several minutes, until she said goodbye and turned to go inside. She waved to him and then watched through the glass door as he got in his car and drove away.

  Only four more sleeps and I’ll see him again. What has gotten into me?

  ***

  A long day at work was followed by a relaxing soak in the tub for Rachel. She’d pushed open the door minutes before eight, armed with takeaway Thai food and a desperate need to relax. She ran the bath and put her dinner on a plate before sinking into the water and swirling the bubbles over her body. She’d placed a hand towel nearby, so she could read on her Kindle, eat, and relax without any distractions.

  After thirty minutes or so, the water had started to cool and she’d finished eating. She leaned over the side and put her plate on the bath towel before letting out some of the water. She was enjoying the silence and wasn’t ready to get out, so she refilled the bath with hot water and lay back again to see how much more of her book she could get through before the water went cold again.

  Ten minutes later, her phone bleeped softly from the bath mat where she’d left it. She closed her eyes and considered ignoring it for a second. It might be her US client emailing her with updates on the campaign. Sighing, she wiped her hand on towel and picked up the phone.

  A smile lit up her face when she saw it was a text message from Henry—that was the next best thing to peacefully reading her book. She tapped the screen and grinned more as they started a conversation.

  HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

  READING IN THE BATH.

  GULP, I SHOULDN’T HAVE ASKED!

  WHY NOT?

  TOO MANY VISUALS AFTER YESTERDA
Y.

  HA. HA.

  CAN I CALL? OR IS IT TOO LATE?

  IT’S FINE.

  Her phone rang a second later. “That was quick. Did you have your finger over the dial button, waiting for my answer?”

  “Of course. I wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a long, long day.”

  “Don’t I know it? I grabbed junk food, ran myself a bath, and soon I’ll be falling into bed, unconscious.”

  “I’m on a break. I still have two more hours and then I can go home.”

  “A chef’s work is never done, eh?”

  “Pretty much. We start early, take a break in the middle, and then we come back until late. It’s exhausting after a while.” He sounded tired, like he’d had enough.

  “Where do you work?”

  “At a club in the city—probably no place you’ve ever heard of. How was your day?”

  “The same as yours, by the sound of it: early start, go, go, go all day, and then the inevitable collapse at night, along with the worry that I didn’t get to everything I needed to do.” She swished the water with her free hand and watched the bubbles float across the surface. It tickled the back of her neck and she closed her eyes.

  “I kind of wish I was there with you.”

  That little flicker bloomed in her stomach again. “That could be nice. I could use someone to wash my back.” He laughed and her insides warmed at the sound. That’s why he’d called her: to brighten his evening.

  “I promise, if you’re ever in the bath when I’m there, I’ll front up for back washing duty. For now, I’ll let you get back to your book.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you Thursday.”

  “See you.”

  She looked at the phone before dropping it onto the bath mat again. The sound of his voice had the same effect on her as his hands did. As she ran her hands across her wet stomach, she licked her lips and sighed. If only Henry wished he was here tonight, too.

  Chapter Six

  “Don’t buy the pasta. Bring your mum’s sauce and I’ll make some.”

  “Are you sure?” Lori sounded like she doubted that was possible.

  “Come on, it’s only pasta. Even I can make that—it’s just a matter of boiling some water and throwing it in. Your mum’s sauce is amazing; it would be a shame to add it to the watery pasta that sometimes comes from the takeaway place.”

  Lori laughed into the phone. “I can’t believe you’re commenting on the quality of food from a restaurant with your track record.”

  Rachel joined in the giggling. “I know, I sound like a snob, but you know what I mean. It will cost you $15 to get plain pasta, and I have some at home. Call me when you’re fifteen minutes away and I’ll get it ready.”

  “Will do. See you soon.”

  Clearing her desk before she went home was a nightly ritual that Rachel never skipped. She’d put the last pens in the drawer when her boss wandered past her desk. “Hey, Rach. You busy tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be working on the beer account. Why?”

  Josh blushed as he clarified what he meant. “Sorry, I meant tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. Why? Do you need me to stay late?”

  “Uh… no. I was wondering if you might like to get dinner?”

  “Dinner?”

  He coughed and looked at his feet. Josh was always so confident in the office. Why was he behaving like this now, when she was getting ready to go home? “Yes, dinner… with me… like a date.”

  “Oh.” She was speechless, letting the silence stretch out between them.

  She’d never even considered a date with Josh. He often commented on her shoes or a jacket she was wearing. On several occasions, he’d even joked about being jealous of her hair. His preoccupation with her looks meant that early on she put any daydreams of him into a drawer and locked it tight.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask. It’s very unprofessional of me. I see you looking so beautiful each day, though, and I can’t help but wonder if we could be good together. I’d love to go to the annual conference with the confidence of knowing you’d be there on my arm.”

  I’m sure that would flatter anyone except me. Poor Josh.

  “Uhh… actually, I just started seeing someone. Literally on the weekend.”

  “It’s not serious yet, then. We could try.” His hopeful voice surprised her. His normal confidence seemed to have deserted him.

  “Well, it is a little serious.”

  “I’m too late, then. Damn. Not surprising, considering how you look.”

  Rachel grit her teeth. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to take to the conference, Josh. Why don’t you ask Sarah on reception?”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I overstepped the mark quite a bit by being brave enough to ask you. I shouldn’t compound that mistake with another one.”

  She smiled at him. At least he was aware of what he’d done. “Don’t worry—your secret is safe with me. You didn’t go about it the wrong way, so don’t panic. Invite her somewhere, though. You might find that it’s fun.”

  Sarah thinks you’re hot. I heard her telling someone about it in the kitchen two weeks ago.

  Feeling like a clever matchmaker, Rachel watched him walk away looking less dejected than he could have. She collected her bag and set off for the car. Only two more sleeps and Henry would be coming to her home for dinner. She couldn’t wait!

  When she got home, she opened her laptop to answer a couple of emails that had arrived as she was packing up at work. Her current project involved a US-based company, and communication had to happen within a specific window each day when both parties were in the office. Most times, she ended up replying to those emails from home, hence her lack of a social life.

  Her phone beeped an hour later, and she ignored the curl in her stomach as she thought it might be Henry. Would he call her, again? Or would she have to wait until Thursday’s dinner to hear his voice?

  You’re pathetic. Stop pining for him—or call him yourself!

  Pushing her thoughts aside, a quick glance at the phone showed it was Lori texting to say she was not far away. She grabbed a pot from the big drawer in the kitchen, filled it with water, and added salt. An extra serve of pasta meant she would have some for tomorrow night, so she put an extra portion of salt into the water as she scrolled through the messages on her phone. She turned the heat up to high and went back to her emails.

  When the water boiled, she poured pasta directly from the packet into the pot, not bothering to measure or weigh it. She popped the lid on and took the extra precaution of setting an alarm on her phone for five minutes, so she would remember to check it. Avoiding the clean up of the stove top would be a big plus—all she had to do was make sure she didn’t let the pot boil over.

  She’d cleared her emails by the time the alarm went off and she adjusted the heat on the saucepan, noting another thirty seconds would have resulted in all of those bubbles covering the stainless steel stove top. She smiled to herself, pleased with her effort.

  I should use a timer more often!

  She changed clothes, gave the pasta a stir, and then Lori was ringing the buzzer to come inside. She bustled through the door and handed Rachel a big plastic container of sauce.

  “Oh, yum. I’ve been thinking about this all day. She gave you a heap, though! There’s enough here for days.”

  “She said to tell you to freeze some, so you don’t starve to death.”

  Rachel laughed and transferred the enticing-smelling bolognaise sauce to a microwave-safe dish. “She knows me well.”

  “We all do. We’ve had plenty of experience. Here, let me put that in the microwave.” Lori opened the door and reached out her hand. Before Rachel could give her the dish, however, Lori snatched her hand back and put it into the microwave, instead. “What’s this?”

  They both peered into the round bowl full of carrots that were starting to turn grey. Rachel let out a strangled giggle. “Umm… that would be the carrots for the pasta
salad,” Lori looked at her with a horrified expression, “that I made on Sunday night!”

  “You forgot about them after you microwaved them?”

  Rachel sighed and took the dish from her. “Guess so. I thought the salad was missing an ingredient. Maybe I’ll heat the sauce on the stove.”

  “That might be best for everyone.”

  “Here I was, quite sure that you were safe from my bad cooking tonight, since I only had to make the easy part.” Lori sat on the couch while Rachel set the table, and they chatted about their day.

  “When do you see lover boy again?”

  “Thursday night. I’m freaking out about what to cook.”

  “You haven’t worked out what you’re going to make?”

  “No! He said he wants curry. I’ve looked up a few recipes, but there are so many ingredients in the ones that look the most authentic. One required simmering a tomato concoction for three hours. I don’t have time for that after work, so it will have to be a basic recipe.”

  “Tell him you’re not feeling well and make him take you out.”

  “I’d like to, but I like the idea of having him here all to myself. So, I’m going to make it work. I can do this. All I have to do is stay focussed. No phone calls, no laptop, and no showering mid-cooking because I’ve splashed sauce all over myself.”

  “I wish I was going to be a fly on the wall for this. Could you live stream it?” Lori joked.

  “Very funny. It’s going to be fine. I’m thinking positive thoughts.”

  “Well, if things go south, you can always go to that Indian place on the corner. I’ve been there and it’s great. He’ll get his curry and you’ll get to apologise profusely while you’re still close enough to home. We’ll also find out what a chef thinks of someone who is a disaster in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t want to find out this early. I want him to like me a little more before I tell him about my one great flaw.”