Pan sizzling, he spreads a dollop of minced garlic alongside a knob of butter.
Such a heavenly aroma, it makes me hungry.
This is kind of romantic.
Dinner for two, prepared by a handsome chef.
He has an apron and everything.
The way he handled that knife was impressive.
I guess he’s done it a hundred times before.
The only food I know how to cut is toast.
I’m pretty good at cutting fire wood though.
“Wanna know a secret?” he grins. “I always double the butter. No matter what I’m making. Butter makes everything taste good.”
I’m trying so hard not to stare at his mouth.
But he keeps looking at mine.
This is not how I expected the day to go.
I think I’m gonna love it here.
It’s not like I’ve never had a crush before.
Nothing mutual though, not in a town like Jundah.
And not like this.
“Always flavour the pan before you add anything,” he instructs. “A nice hot surface to sear the eye fillet without losing any of that moisture. You want it tender, falling apart in your mouth.”
I can think of something tender I'd like to have in my mouth.
Ugh, I need to stop doing that.
This guy could recite the phone book, and I’d find a way to make it erotic.
And it’s not entirely my fault.
I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose.
“You wanna taste it?” he murmurs softly.
More than you know,I sigh.
Porter holds a spoon in front of my mouth.
“How about I let you hold it for a while?” he offers.
Please do.
Let me hold your long, thick... skillet handle.
This one’s similar to the pans I’ve washed for Rocco.
