I stared back at her. “Come on, Sunshine. You know good and well that you had that taco in your mouth before I could get two words out.”
She cracked up. “Forget you.”
“Anyway, what are you doing today?”
“First, I’m getting a massage. Then I’ll probably lie on the beach. After that, it’ll be nap time or something.”
“This evening at 7:00 p.m., I’m supposed to participate in the culinary class. It’s for couples. I’m hoping you’ll meet me there.”
She swiped a lock of hair behind her ear as her eyes moved up to mine. “Seems like you’re trying to tie up my free time here at Quietude Resort and Spa on Iredia island.”
“You caught on to that, huh?” I chuckled.
She tapped her temple with her pointer finger. “That’s that college education at work.”
We both laughed. “Majestic Ballroom, 7:00 p.m.”
“I’ll be there,” she assured me, her eyes holding mine.
I looked down at our workstation, the ingredients for the menu—tomato bruschetta; arugula and citrus salad; roasted herb chicken breasts; and strawberry ripple cheesecake for dessert.
“What do you think?” I asked Soleil.
She waved her hand dismissively. “We got this, boo.”
“You a good cook?”
“I’m an excellent cook.”
“Cool. Okay, I picked the best possible partner . . . fine, and she can cook.”
She playfully pushed me on the bicep. “Stop trying to make me blush, Spence.” She took a beat. “And thank you.”
“Turn around. Let me help you tie your apron.” If she was as good of a cook as she claimed she was, I knew she could tie her own apron. It was just an excuse to touch her, be close to her.
She gave me her back, and I tied her apron. Her perfume wafted up to my nose, and I bent a little at the waist to get a stronger whiff.
She turned around slowly and made eye contact with me. “Uh, did you just sniff me?”
“Nah,” I lied. “I just, you know? Inhaled.”
“Whatever.”
The chef gave us our instructions, and after moving over to the sink to wash our hands, I joined her back at our workstation. “What’s first?”
“Why don’t you start on the salad?” She handed me the recipe card.
It was mainly just assembling the ingredients, then making the vinaigrette. “I feel seen.” I tapped my chest dramatically. She roared with laughter, causing the other students to look over at our workstation with curiosity. “Stop drawing attention.”
She scoffed. “Stop being hilarious.”
Since I wasn’t really known for my hilarity, that comment hit me in the chest. Damn. She thought I was funny. My ego puffed up a bit.
I watched her handle dicing up the tomatoes while I created abed of arugulain the bowl. Once they were diced, she poured the tomatoes into a bowl where she had already added olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I laid orange slices on top of the greens, while Soleil minced garlic and tore fresh basil into pieces.
Yeah, she definitely knew what she was doing in the kitchen. I smiled internally at the thought. She was fine, thicker than a motherfucka, could cook, and was as soft as cotton when I touched her. I didn’t know what the long-term held. All I knew was that I had her for the next five days, and in that time, . . . I wasn’t coming up off her.
“We make a good-ass team,” I told her after swallowing a bite of the most flavorful chicken I’d had in a minute.
