Done With Love (19 page)

It doesn’t matter now. That’s over.
And I was relieved for it. Because here I was, sharing my kitchen with the most gorgeous man I knew, while he wowed me with his cheese knowledge. I pressed a yellow onion to his chest. “You can slice onions, right?”

He shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

“It’s not at all.” I unwrapped the mushrooms. “Do you have a recipe for this, or are we just throwing stuff together?”

“Crap, I knew I forgot something.” He sighed and tied his apron around his middle. “Can’t we just wing it?”

“I said I can cook, I didn’t say I was amazing at it. Mostly I just go to my parents’, and Cat and Mom whip something up. I can follow directions though.” I took inventory of all the items he’d purchased. “If you don’t have a recipe, how do you know you bought all the right stuff?”

He tapped his temple. “I have a really good memory. These are all the items Rox has on the counter when she makes it for me. She cooks everything and throws it in a bowl.”

“That doesn’t sound at all like Roxi’s cooking.”

Cooking was a passion of Roxanna’s. She definitely didn’t throw anything around in the kitchen. Well, unless you counted flipping pancakes in the air, which she only did to show off every now and then. She’d learned a lot from her dad before he left.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure she’s made this for Gen and me before, but it’s been awhile. I think we need to cook the hamburger steak first and then we cook everything else in the pan.”

“Yes, that’s what she does. I just can’t tell you what measurements.” He sliced the ends off the onion then peeled off the top layer.

“Rox doesn’t measure when she cooks. She has some kind of weird talent of eye-balling everything.” I set a skillet on the stove then handed him a big pan. “Put water in this to boil the spaghetti. I’ll clean the mushrooms.”

While I brushed the mushrooms with a damp washcloth, Leo sliced the onions. He blinked against the vapors, and because he was a manly man, he didn’t say a word. I sucked in my cheeks to hold back my smile and waited for the waterworks. Finally, he set the knife down and rubbed at his eyes.

“This is why I don’t cook! It hurts!” The tears matted his cheeks as he rubbed the backs of his hands against his closed eyelids.

“It’s okay. My dad cries every time.” I laughed and led him to the sink. He stumbled, blind, and I turned the water on for him so he could lean down and splash water on his face. He looked like an overgrown boy in his apron and flushed cheeks.

“I don’t know why the military uses guns in war. Just drop onion fumes on the enemy and they’d surrender.” He patted his face dry with a hand towel. “I feel bad for all the meals my mom and Rox have cooked for me. I love onions. They put onions in everything.”

I rubbed him on the back. “It doesn’t bother some people like it does others,” I soothed, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

“You think so?” He looked so forlorn.

“Yes, I do.” I pointed at the mushrooms. “Slice those instead. I’ll do the onions.” I finished them quickly and set them aside in a bowl because my eyes stung. “Can you hand me the olive oil? It’s up in the cabinet in the corner.”

“Sure,” he said.

I turned on the burner under the skillet just as he set the olive oil on the counter. I measured the oil by making two large circles on the bottom of the pan. My back arched when he slid his arms around me from behind.

“I’m glad I came over.” His breath was warm against my neck.

“Me too, or you might have died of starvation.” I tugged the corner of my bottom lip into my mouth and set the olive oil down before he could see how shaky he made me.

“I was really hungry.” He kissed my neck, and I shivered.

I tilted my head to the side so he would have free reign to do whatever he wanted there. And he did, dropping feather light kisses to my neck and shoulder. I concentrated on seasoning the hamburger steaks with salt and pepper, but ignoring him was difficult. Mostly because I didn’t want to ignore him. I wanted to encourage him.
You owe him, after all
, my mind reasoned.

“If this is your favorite meal, you should pay attention and make sure I’m doing it right,” I lectured, not meaning a word of it. I liked where his attention had gone, right to the nape of my neck. “I’ve never made this before. I might ruin it.”

“You won’t.” He turned me in his arms and leaned down to kiss me, his lips warm and soft against mine.

He plied my lips open with little effort, sucking my bottom lip between his before sliding his tongue against mine.
Holy wow,
the man could kiss. My vision was cloudy by the time he was done with me.

“I thought you were hungry,” I managed to say, though I was short of breath, and my focus was on the way his fingers lightly caressed my butt through the skirt. His fingers were splayed in toward my inner thighs, and I was annoyed with the skirt for being in his way.

“I am.” His gaze told me exactly what he was hungry for, and the knowledge was electrifying.

“Great. Because the water is boiling and you can add the pasta now.” I turned in his arms to face the stove, but now the evidence of his arousal was pressed against the curve of my lower back. And he didn’t move. “So you should do that.”

I didn’t have anything against dessert before supper, but this was about me showing some self control around him. Which, I had none of with him around.

When he kissed my neck again, I said, “Leo.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay. The pasta.” He stepped around me and picked up the box off the counter. “How do I do it?”

I raised my brows at him. “You’re serious?”

He laughed. “I’m just kidding. I like when you give me that look of yours.”

“Just get the pasta in the water, musclehead.”

He winked at me. “I like how obsessed you are with my body.”

He was incorrigible, really. I decided to change the subject.

“Where’s Roxi tonight?” Gen was with Matt at a business dinner for his work, so it was weird she was out and she hadn’t called me. Lately she was all about keeping her crazy friend company.

“Out with her ex jerk.”

I nearly dropped the steak on the floor. I managed to get it in the skillet then waved the tongs at Leo. “What? You let her go?”

“You know Rox. She only listens when she wants to.” He didn’t look happy about it as he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “I can’t stand that guy.”

I didn’t exactly dislike Blake, but he’d never be Roxanna’s happy ending.

“I didn’t realize he’s back in town. She never said anything about it.” The steaks sizzled in the olive oil, and I nudged a little space between them in the skillet. “Is he back for good?”

“No. Visiting his grandparents. He’ll be gone soon.”

“Good,” I said.

“I think she uses butter.”

I looked up at his hopeful expression. “Aren’t you some kind of health nut?”

He shrugged. “I like butter.”

I handed him the tongs and walked to the fridge. “You know, a couple of months ago I would have said ‘no butter’.”

“And now?”

I smiled at him over my shoulder. “I forgot how much I love butter.”

“Probably as much as I like the view,” he said, and I stood too quickly and hit my head on the edge of the freezer door.

“Ouch,” I gasped, and clasped my head.

He turned me around by the shoulders and nudged my hand away so he could inspect my throbbing head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?” He ran his hand over the top of my head. “No bump.”

“I didn’t hit it very hard.” Not true. I might have cried if I were alone. I blinked my watery eyes and winced, then pushed him away. “
Jeez
, quit staring at my butt already.”

“Quit sticking it out already.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter, and I couldn’t help myself.

I lifted my hand and touched it to the side of his cheek. The smile settled into his face and softened his lips.

The steaks sizzled in the pan, reminding me of the dinner I would burn if I weren’t careful. I dropped my hand and shut the refrigerator door.

“So,” I said as I stepped to the stove, “how is work?”

It was a lame attempt at changing the subject to something safe, something not involving me staring at his lips.

“Busy.” He watched me flip the steaks. “Should I be doing something?”

“I have no idea. You should have brought a recipe.” I pointed at the boiling noodles. “The noodles might be done. You can check them.”

A noodle flew past my nose and hit the wall. It didn’t stick. I looked to the noodle, then to him.

He shrugged. “That’s how you check noodles, right?”

“No wonder Roxanna doesn’t let you cook.”

“I’m going to prove to you I’m not a menace in the kitchen.” He picked up the bag of organic kale and ripped open the top. “See?”

I paused in reaching for the bowl of onions on the counter and turned to face him. “After dinner, do you want to go out? There’s this movie I’d like to see.”

I hadn’t been out in a long time, and I wasn’t sure where the idea came from. But he was here, and I’d been cooped up for too long. And he made me laugh. Laughing again felt good.

He looked surprise by the invitation, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay, then.” I turned back to the stove so he wouldn’t see the big, goofy grin on my lips. “I suppose we better get serious about this meal. I’m starving.”

“Did Millicent call you back yesterday?” I asked Michelle as I skimmed the pages of our website. “You know, this website could use some new pictures. We’ll have to do that once the spring inventory comes in.”

When she didn’t answer, I looked up from the laptop. Michelle stood beside me, looking down at the notepad in her hands, biting at her lip.

“Michelle,” I said, and she jerked from her thoughts.

“Yeah. I mean, yes. She called back.” She looked worried her recap might send me over the edge.

Not that I blamed her. I hadn’t exactly been the picture of optimism lately. But I felt good today. Really good.

I’d seen Leo two nights in a row, and since Roxanna was secretly meeting Blake, she wasn’t investigating where her cousin disappeared to in the evenings. What I couldn’t figure out was why he hadn’t come on to me yet. Not once. Not at all. I mean, we’d kissed, but each night he left me at my door, chaste and frustrated.

“Michelle, it’s okay, really. I can take it.” She didn’t look convinced, so I flashed an encouraging smile. “Really. I’m in damage control mode.”

“
Oo
-kay,” she said, still looking doubtful. She cleared her throat. “So, Millicent can’t send the new line until after it’s paid in full.” She grimaced. “They have new rules, I guess.”

She read down the list of the distributors I’d worked with last year: payment in full required, partial payment required. One thing was clear—I needed an influx of money to sustain me until the flyers generated some business, and until after the bridal expo. Michelle looked sick to her stomach. She depended on me. She couldn’t afford to lose this job, not while putting herself through college. Someday she’d be a fabulous designer, and working at
Once Upon A Dream
was great for her resume. I wouldn’t let her down.

“We’ll be fine
,
I promise.” I clicked off the Internet browser and pressed my hands together. “I have great news, too. I almost called you last night to tell you about it.”

“Thank God,” she said, and I raised my brows. “I mean, that’s great. Good news is great.”

“We had a walk-in yesterday afternoon. A young thing paying for her own wedding. She said she heard I had the best gowns in town, so Deborah hasn’t poisoned everyone against me.” I’d been so excited by the woman’s interest, I almost did a happy dance with relief. I pointed at the champagne gown draped on the mannequin in the window. The lace and beading gave it a vintage 1920s elegance—it was my favorite in the boutique. “She’s perfect for the Angelino, but she almost fainted when she saw the price tag.”

Michelle sighed. “It is a little pricey.”

“I told her I’d let her make payments.”

“Like layaway?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes, like layaway. She was thrilled.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s
great.
”

“She was so happy, she made an appointment for her bridesmaids to come try on dresses.”

“Oh wow, I’m so happy for you, Lexie.” She gave me a relieved hug, and I squeezed her back.

“And don’t worry about the spring line. I have a plan for that.” I’d spent the last two days updating my business plan. I wasn’t entirely comfortable approaching the bank for a credit line increase, but I had every confidence that after the bridal expo next month, business would pick up quickly. And if I wanted the dresses in time for the expo, I’d need to order them by the end of next week.

“Should I call Millicent and let her know we still want the dresses?”

Mitzy pawed at my shoe so I bent to pick her up. “Yes, tell her she’ll have the payment by next week.” I kissed Mitzy on the top of her head. “I have an appointment this morning, so I won’t be back until after lunch. If you have any customers, let them know we do layaway, and I can call them with the details.”