by L. A. Fiore
I wanted to lean into him, wanted to press my mouth to his, wanted to feel his strong arms pulling me close. He brushed my cheek with his thumb before he focused back on the eggs.
My voice was thick, husky, when I asked, “What kind of omelet are you making me?”
“Western.”
“Ham, onions, peppers, mushrooms and cheese?”
“Yep.”
“Yummy.”
The sizzle of the butter in the pan, the fragrant scent that assailed me had my stomach growling again, loud and long. A fact not lost on Rafe. “You are hungry.”
“Oh my God. How sexy am I, dressed like this and having a stomach attempting communication outside the body. Maybe you should put the oven on so I can stick my head in it.”
Rafe glanced at me, the bowl of eggs in his hand, but I hadn’t a clue what he was thinking.
“What?”
He shook his head, like in confusion or maybe disbelief, before he poured the eggs into the pan. And on cue, my stomach responded with a loud approving rumble. He was rather skilled at making an omelet, even flipping it to cook the top. Another pan was sautéing the onions, peppers, mushrooms and ham. Scooping the filling onto the egg, he sprinkled cheese, cracked pepper and a hint of salt before folding it. He slid the omelet onto a plate and placed the heavenly concoction right in front of me. Digging a fork from the drawer, he set it next to the plate.
“Avery?”
Drool pooled in my mouth, smelling the incredible scents wafting up in the steam, so it took effort to move my focus from the omelet to Rafe.
“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, even more so dressed like that.”
If I weren’t sitting, I’d be on the floor right now. Did he just say that? I never felt sexy before, but I felt it now with those green eyes looking with such unabashed heat. To cover just how much those words meant to me, I teasingly replied, “I think the heat from the stove has fried your brain.”
“And I think you should just shut up, understand that I’m right and eat your omelet.”
“All right, Mr. Bossy.” But I was grinning like a fool.
“It’s incredible. I’m only limited by my imagination, literally. If I can think it up, cost is no issue. I have a team, two sous chefs.” Sitting at the local café, taking my meal break, I chatted on the phone with Jessica.
“You have a team?”
“Crazy right?” An odd sensation caused the hair on my arms to stand on end, the sensation so powerful I actually peered over my shoulder to see who was staring at me. Distracted, I missed Jessica’s question.
Picking up on my inattention, she jarred me from my scan of the place when she practically bellowed, “Avery!”
“I’m sorry.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, probably nothing, but it feels like someone’s watching me.”
“Where are you?”
“Down the street from Clover.”
“Maybe someone’s just checking you out.”
“Maybe.”
Her voice went from teasing to serious. “Are you getting a bad feeling?”
“A little.”
“The city scares me.”
“I’ve never had an issue, doesn’t mean I won’t, but this is definitely a new experience. A little creepy.”
“But you don’t see anyone outwardly looking at you?”
“No, but the place is pretty crowded and there are a lot of tables concealed from me.”
“Are you worried?”
“Worried, no, but definitely wary. As long as I don’t go walking to the rest room alone and I don’t inexplicably say I’ll be back because, as you know, in movies—outside of Arnold—those people never come back, I should be okay.”
“You’re so weird. Maybe it’s a customer from Clover, a woman who you’ve increased her dress size and now she wants payback.”
“I’m weird? Have you and Nat been spending time together? You’re beginning to sound just like her.”
Her only response was a laugh. Focusing on Jessica, I tried to ignore the prickling my skin was doing. “Did you get a hotel?”
“Yep. Kit plans to take Aidan to a football game on one of the days. So tell me about Rafe?”
“He’s not with Melody anymore.”
“He told you that?”
“We were flirting and in the middle of it I remembered Melody, it kind of put a damper on it for me. I feigned a headache, he saw right through me. Told me he wasn’t with her anymore and really wanted to taste my scones.”
“You’re scones?”
“Code for wanting to taste me.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah. I’ve been kind of floating around since, my head isn’t functioning as well as it should. But when you’ve got a man like that wanting to taste your scones, I think I’m entitled to be a bit loopy.”
“You can say that again.”
“What was weird though, I saw Melody a few days before that attempting to get onto his property. If they aren’t together, why was she there?”
“Good question. What did he say?”
“I didn’t tell him. I intended to but then my dad called.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he wanted to have dinner but really he wanted me to set up a baby shower for Dolly at Clover.”
“He did not.”
“He did. He even got annoyed with me when I told him where he could stick his baby shower.”
“Unbelievable.”
“It was the kick I needed. I’ve officially joined the ranks with Nat. I’m done.”
“I’m sorry, but sometimes relationships are toxic and it’s healthier to let them go.”
“You’re right. It just hurts that my dad is my toxic relationship.” I had an incoming call. “I’ve got another call. We’ll talk soon.”
“Be safe, Avery. And no worries about your dad, you’ve got a kickass mom and an awesome stepdad.”
“So true. Kiss the boys.”
“Always.”
Disconnecting with Jess, I saw it was Ember. “Ember? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to invite you to dinner on Saturday. Trace insisted, said your sous chefs could handle things for the night.”
I wasn’t going to argue, it’d been an age since I’d been to a dinner party and for it to be at Ember’s meant that Rafe would be there too. I didn’t hide my excitement. “I’d love that.”
“Can you bring dessert?”
“Like you need to ask. How many people are you expecting?”
“About twenty.”
Not just a dinner party, but a big dinner party. I couldn’t wait. I’d never gone so long between social gatherings, I was beginning to feel like a hermit. “I’ll be sure to bring enough so there are leftovers for you and the family.”
“I was hoping you’d suggest that.”
“Thanks for including me. I used to have dinner with my girlfriend all the time, I miss it.”
“Darcy and I want to pick your brain about Rafe.”
“Ugh.”
She laughed. “Kidding, well not entirely kidding.” Her next words were spoken with unfeigned sincerity. “We’re looking forward to seeing you.”
“Me too. See you on Saturday.”
A half an hour later when I headed back to work, the pricking sensation had stopped.
Sitting outside, I listened to the sound of power tools coming from Rafe’s barn. He’d been at it for a few hours. It wasn’t quite lunchtime, but I wanted to offer him lunch as a thank you for the breakfast he’d made me the other day.
Entering the barn to the scent of freshly cut wood, I spotted Rafe working with a power tool I didn’t know the name of. His focus was incredible, the ease in which he worked equally so. I hadn’t made a sound and still Rafe’s head turned, his eyes catching mine.
“Sorry to interrupt, I was about to make lunch and wanted to know if you’d like some.”
He straightened from his p
osition and turned more fully to me. He was in those faded jeans again; I wanted to see him in those and nothing else, preferably while moving toward me with the intent of spending hours wearing no clothes at all. And then remembering he may have the ability to read minds, I emptied mine.
“I’d like that, but I want to finish these cuts first. Why don’t you stay? Together we’ll get it done faster and then I’ll help you with lunch.”
Um, so he hadn’t read my lustful thoughts; it said a lot about me that I was disappointed about that, but not for long with him seeming to want my company as much as I wanted his. “Okay, but fair warning, I don’t know the first thing about woodworking.”
His lips curved up. “I’ll teach you what you need to know.”
He handed me a pair of goggles, our fingers brushed which had the hair on my arms standing on end from the electric current that burned through me at the contact. I wasn’t alone in feeling that heat, his eyes turned dark as his focus shifted to my lips. To say he looked hungry was definitely an understatement.
“Safety is the first and most important lesson when working with any power tools.” He rested his hand on the saw he’d been using. “This is a miter saw, it makes the angle cuts to frame out the bookcases. This is a miter box to help guide the cuts; the angles I’m cutting are not standard since the ceilings in the house are not square. I’ve already made the first cut. We need to cut these.” He gestured to a pile of long rectangular boards stacked on a pair of sawhorses. “Then we’ll use wood glue to attach the pieces and clamp the corners so the glue can set.”
“Are these for the library?”
“Yeah.” He moved the piece he had cut and reached for another, setting it along the miter box. “I’m going to turn on the saw. When you’re ready, bring the blade down slowly. Let the blade do the work.”
“Okay.”
The saw kicked on, and my heart jumped because it was a bit scary seeing that blade spinning and knowing the damage it could cause. Rafe helped to hold the piece steady as I lowered the blade. The saw cut the wood like a hot knife through butter. Rafe certainly kept his tools in excellent shape. Once I’d cut all the way through, I lifted the blade. Rafe cut the power.
“Nice job.”
“Even for as loud as it is, it’s oddly calming, almost hypnotic.”
“I’ve always thought that too. Are you ready to do another?”
“Absolutely.”
For the next hour, we worked through the pile of wood, making the cuts and then gluing and clamping the pieces together. After, we cleaned up his workshop before we headed to my place for lunch.
“I was going to whip up a chicken salad with cranberries, walnuts and honey. I made whole grain bread earlier.”
“Sounds great. Can I use your bath to wash up?”
I liked the thought of Rafe in my bath washing up. Would like it even more if I were in there with him. “Yeah, there are extra towels in the closet.”
Pulling the chicken I had roasted yesterday morning from the refrigerator, I started removing the meat from the bones. I heard as the water turned on and I gave myself a moment to imagine Rafe stripping down, knowing he wasn’t really doing that, but I so enjoyed the visual. I was fairly turned on when Rafe came back into the kitchen. I couldn’t look at him for fear he’d see that I’d been envisioning him naked, so I focused on mixing the chicken with the mayo and honey like I was working with nitroglycerin. I offered, “There are drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.”
“Thanks. You want something?”
“A beer would be nice.”
He popped the top off one and placed it next to me. I asked, “What kind of wood was that?”
“Mahogany.”
“It’s beautiful. I don’t imagine you’re going to stain it.”
“No, just some polyurethane to bring out the natural striations in the wood.”
“Thanks for letting me help. That was fun.”
“Thanks for lunch.” He leaned up against the counter next to me, holding his beer with his thumb and pointer finger. “So how’s work? What kind of boss is Trace?”
He was digging, looking for dirt that he could use to rib his friend, but I had to disappoint him because Trace was an excellent boss. “He’s great. He demands excellence, but as long as you’re giving him that, he’s hands-off. I wasn’t sure how it would be working for him because he seems more like a fighter than restaurateur, especially after I did a little research on him prior to my interview.”
“You did?”
Embarrassed that I admitted it, I didn’t back down because the pin had been pulled. “I wanted to be prepared, wanted to know my audience. I even took a class at his cooking school just to see what he was like. Brought Nat, that was a mistake.”
“Why was bringing Nat a mistake?”
“She’s a clown and drew attention, Trace’s actually, when the whole point was to be on the down low. It’s amazing to me how someone so scattered and wacky can operate on brains.”
“Yeah, about that. What made her want to be a brain surgeon?”
“I think she’s a zombie and she uses her occupation as a way to eat. I could be wrong, since I’ve never been in the operating room with her, but it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
A grin appeared on his lips before he took a pull from his beer. “Does she tease you as much as you tease her?”
“She teases me more, but in all seriousness I think she chose her occupation because our Nana had a brain aneurysm and it killed her. We were all really close, but Nat and Nana were like two peas in a pod. She couldn’t save Nana but she can save other people’s Nanas.”
Looking up from what I was doing, I discovered I had Rafe’s complete attention. “To look at you and your sister, you look opposite, but you’re a lot alike.”
“Yeah, we are. She’s older, but it never felt like she was older. She wasn’t one for pulling the age card as kids. You don’t have siblings, do you?”
“No, but I have Trace and Lucien and we’ve known each other since we were kids so they kind of feel like my brothers.”
“The three of you together, there was likely a stream of heartbroken girls in your wake.” And then I realized I said that out loud and since I had already stuck my foot in my mouth I added, “I’m just saying your fairy godmother should be given a citation or something for being so free with her wand.”
“Wand?”
In answer to that, I lifted the spoon I was using and waved it in true fairy godmother fashion. “Her beauty wand.”
Heat, raw and primal, flashed in his eyes, and my mouth went dry as my skin started to tingle. And then he said, “You’re goofy.”
“Maybe, but the probability of all that hotness focused in one area, it’s just not statistically possible. So either you’re undead, because we all know the undead are notorious for being hot, or you have a rogue fairy godmother who is not shy about sharing the wealth.”
“Totally goofy.” Rafe said on a laugh, but the smile he gave me after was proof that he liked my goofy.
“Watching you work, the effortless way you move through a project is really impressive. How long have you been a woodcrafter?”
“About ten years, the business really took off about seven years ago. I imagine my focus is a lot like yours in the kitchen, second nature.”
“Yeah, but you’re creating pieces that in a hundred years will still be around. You’re creating a legacy, that’s enviable.”
“And you’re not? Sure what you create doesn’t last, but for that moment you’re creating memories. People view my creations, but people taste yours and having tasted some of your desserts, they are definitely memorable.”
I’d stopped scooping the chicken salad onto the bread and just stared at him because that was, hands down, the nicest compliment I had ever been given. “Thank you.”
My breath stilled in my lungs as he touched a lock of my hair that had fallen from the knot. “You’re welcome.”
Tal
k about memorable moments. I couldn’t even form a reply. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to bridge the distance between us and press my mouth to his. And maybe I was being fanciful, but he looked to be battling the same urge.
He recovered faster than me when he said, “Looks good. I’ll get the plates.”
I’d just finished putting the last coat of poly on the bookcase Avery and I made when I heard Loki bark a second before Avery’s slightly hysterical laughter. It was early, before eight, but Avery was already up. Stepping from the barn, the sight that greeted me had a smile pulling at my mouth, even as envy burned through me. The fact that I was envious of my dog was seriously messed up. Avery lay on her back while Loki tried to lick her face, an action she was attempting to avoid at all costs. The image slammed into me, so vividly, her on her back and my body over hers. I wanted to lick her: every single inch. I knew she wanted me too. And even with all that sexual tension between us, the woman was hilarious. That entire conversation on fairy godmothers and her sister being a zombie was a riot. I was attracted to her, absolutely, you’d have to be a eunuch not to be, but her personality was almost sexier.
“You’ve licked your butt with that tongue. Stop it you fiend.” Her order was barely audible through her laughter. Her head turned, her bright eyes found mine. “Don’t just stand there, help me.” And though she issued a command, it didn’t really come off as one with her giggling like she was.
I didn’t really want to get involved. She looked adorable, lying there with my huge dog trying to eat her whole. I wondered what Avery would do if I took his place? The thought was so tempting I almost threw caution to the wind.
Instead I ordered, “Loki, stop.”
And my dog, he clearly was of a similar mindset of not wanting me to get involved, because he merely glanced over at me before he continued to lick Avery.
“Loki, come.”
He reacted then, following the command, but he did so very reluctantly. Avery didn’t move, just lay there, still laughing, her hair had fallen out of the knot thing she always had it pulled up in. Her gaze moved from Loki and me to the sky, her expression turning almost serene. The temptation to look up and see what put that look on her face nearly had me doing so.
