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He moves around the kitchen with the same confidence and ease he has in the kitchen back at the guys’ house, and I watch as he fills a pot with water and puts it on the stove before hunting down a cheese grater to start shredding the block of cheddar.
Watching him cook does nothing to make me less turned on than I already am, and desire simmers under the surface of my skin, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.
This is a different side of him, and yet it isn’t at the same time. He’s always been sort of domestic, usually in the kitchen, making food or coffee, leaning against the counter and cracking jokes. I see him in there more than I see the other two, and I realize that I’ve sort of been thinking of it as his domain.
While he works, he makes faces at Piper and asks her questions about her day.
“Mr. Twinkle got…” Piper frowns like she’s searching for a word. “Permoted?”
“Promoted,” Rory corrects with a smile. “That’s good for Mr. Twinkle. Isn’t it, Mercy?”
I nod, impressed that the little girl knows a word like that, even if she said it wrong. “Very impressive. What did he get promoted to? And from?”
She’s still shy when she looks at me, but it’s clear she’s happy we’re engaging with her about who or whatever Mr. Twinkle is. “Boss to Big Boss,” she says. “He works hard.”
Rory nods solemnly. “Then it’s important that he got bumped up. I hope you offered him a generous raise to go with his new title.”
“Six cookies,” she says, beaming and holding up her fingers to show us.
“Six? Dang. Maybe I should think about switching careers if working for you pays that well. I’m on a three cookie salary.”
I can’t help but laugh as he teases her, grinning while his hands never stop moving. It’s so clear that he loves his daughter. He’s always silly and playful, but there’s a different edge to it here, more loving than how he acts around the rest of us. Which makes sense.
It’s a disaster for me, because while I sit here and watch, chiming in when asked something, I realize that the confusing pull I feel toward him isn’t just sexual attraction anymore. That was hard enough to deal with, but now I’m actually starting to fucking like this guy.
Shit.
He turns to add the cheese to the simmering pot on the stove, and I can’t help myself. My curiosity is killing me.
“So, what’s the story here?” I ask.
I half expect Rory to make a joke or say something flippant to deflect, but when he turns back, he’s giving me a considering look. “Hold that thought,” he says. “And watch this pot while you’re at it.”
“I can’t cook for shi—” I cut myself off, glancing over at Piper. “Anything. I can’t cook for anything.”
“You don’t have to cook.” He shakes his head, grinning. “Just make sure it doesn’t boil over. If the bubbles start going, turn it down. Stir it a little. I have absolute faith in you, Hurricane.” He winks and steps away from the stove, ruffling Piper’s hair as he moves past where she’s sitting and then disappears into the living room.
I grumble under my breath but walk over to the stove and peer into the pot of cheese sauce. It smells good, and I give it a slight stir. Piper seems content to hum to herself at the table, her little legs swinging as we both wait for her father to get back.
It’s only a minute or so later when Rory comes back, arms full of coloring books with a huge box of crayons balanced on top. He presents them to Piper who claps enthusiastically and reaches to take the box from him, setting it on the table. Rory puts the coloring books down on the table too and then sweeps a silly bow, eyes bright.
“Your entertainment, Your Highness,” he says, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before he comes back over to where he left me with the pot. As he walks behind me, sliding into the space between me and the island, his hand brushes the small of my back, just lightly enough that I can’t tell if it was an accident or not.
I jump slightly and go back to stirring, cheeks turning red.
“It’s fine,” I say, a little defensive on instinct. “It’s not burned.”
His smile softens a bit, and he shoos me away from the pot, taking the spoon and stirring the sauce himself. “I trusted you could manage not to burn the house down for a minute, Hurricane, don’t worry.”
I roll my eyes at him but don’t go back to my seat at the island. Instead, I lean against the counter, my gaze flicking from Piper, who is happily coloring
in one of the books, back to Rory.
He catches the look and shrugs a shoulder. “Jen and I dated for a while, but it wasn’t anything really serious,” he says, answering a question I had before but wasn’t going to ask out loud. “She’s great, really great, but it just wasn’t going to work out. But when she got pregnant, I promised I was going to be there for her no matter what she decided to do. I went with her to all her appointments, sat in the car if she wanted to go in alone. Bought her so many weird fucking foods when she was having those pregnancy cravings.”
“And you never thought about getting married or anything?” I ask. I don’t mean it in a judgmental way at all, I’m just curious.
Rory seems to recognize that, and he shakes his head. “Nah. I mean, we thought about it for a hot second, but it wasn’t going to be worth it. We don’t love each other, you know? And a kid deserves to see their parents really in love, even if that’s with other people and not each other.”
