AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The kitchen is gorgeous, far surpassing the one in the apartment I share with my sister. Where ours is more of a shotgun kitchen with run down appliances and peeling tile, Abel’s kitchen looks like something from a design magazine. Open concept, dark wood cabinets, gray quartz countertops, stainless steel appliances, and the same dark hardwood floors that run through the rest of the apartment.
When I spot Abel’s bare back as he pulls contents from the refrigerator, the rest of the room fades into the background and my eyes lock in on him.
Even though we’ve spent the last couple of hours in his bed, leaving my body deliciously sore, I still have the overwhelming urge to walk right up to him and ask him to take me again. That’s what this man does to me. He makes me feel wild and untamed.
“Hey.” He turns, smiling when he catches sight of me leaning against the far side of the kitchen counter. “Hey,” I return, eyeing the pack of bacon in his hand.
“How do you feel about bacon?” He quirks an eyebrow, holding up the package of meat.
“Is that even a question?”
“I had suspicions you were the perfect woman but now I know, you really are too good to be true.” He drops the bacon onto the counter before leaning down to retrieve a frying pan from one of the lower cabinets.
“I’m the perfect woman because I like bacon?” I laugh.
“Among many other things.” He flashes me a knowing look before turning his attention back to the stove as he places the pan on one of the burners.
“So, we’re just going to eat an entire pack of bacon and call it a day?” I ask, sliding up next to him.
“Well I was going to make pancakes but I have no batter.”
“Do you have flour?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“What about milk and eggs?”
“Yep.”
“Then I can make pancakes. Just point me in the direction of where I can find the flour.”
“And she cooks.” He gives me an impressed look. “Flour is in the pantry.” He points to a floor to ceiling cabinet in the corner.
“Yeah, that was kind of a necessity growing up in my house. Otherwise I would have starved to death,” I tell him, crossing the room before opening the pantry.
I locate the dry ingredients I need and turn, placing them onto the counter next to me.
“I’m sorry,” Abel says, causing my eyes to slide to him.
“Don’t be.” I shrug. “There are perks to growing up the way I did. For starters, you learn how to make one hell of a pancake,” I joke to lighten the suddenly heavy shift in the mood.
“Well I guess there’s that.” He gives me a soft smile.
“Trust me, you’ll be happy I did too once you taste these bad boys. Now, where can I find a mixing bowl?”
“There.” He points to the top cabinet directly in front of me.
We spend the next several minutes in easy conversation as we move around the kitchen. Him preparing the eggs and bacon while I work on my epic pancakes, minus the cinnamon and nutmeg I normally add because he didn’t have any.
The process of cooking together feels oddly right. Like it’s something we’ve done together a million times before and I take comfort in the feeling. It’s not something I’ve experienced many times in my life–a sense of belonging–and I’m not sure I could have felt it with anyone but the man currently standing feet from me, sliding bacon onto two plates as he hums quietly to himself.
Instead of eating at the table, once our plates are made we decide to curl up on the couch. Abel puts the television on Kids Baking Championship, which immediately makes me giggle.
“What?” He throws me a questioning look as he drops the remote on the couch between us, his plate balanced on his knee.
“Kids Baking Championship?” I question, not pegging him for a Food Network kind of guy.
“Don’t look at me like that. These little dudes can bake like you wouldn’t believe.”
