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Chapter Ten
Rhenn
This is weird in a completely domesticated sort of way.
I’m standing beside Marissa in her tiny kitchen as she prepares the extra dishes for dinner. She’s humming a song I don’t know, and from time to time, will add in a little hip shake. The woman is entirely in a zone as she whips through the hardboiled deviled egg salad by heart, without once looking at a recipe. That prospect alone completely blows my mind. My mom was an average cook, but she always had to look at a card or book for the instructions. But Marissa? It’s like she’s using some old family recipe that she keeps stored in a mental file.
It’s impressive as hell.
Without saying a word, she hands me a knife and points to the bag of cucumbers. “You want me to cut them? There’s no worse fate for a…cucumber.”
“You can handle it, big boy,” she sasses as she continues to dice the eggs.
So here I am, washing and cutting cucumbers for a salad. Like a homemade one. One I didn’t order from a deli or restaurant. Careful, the sky might fall.
I make my first cut and the tip flies across the counter. By the time I have my knife ready and my hand positioned so I don’t chop off a finger, Marissa has already cut another egg. She’s a magician with a blade, and for some crazy reason, it kinda turns me on. I keep at it, making slow and calculated cuts with my knife, until I’ve finally sliced the entire first vegetable. When I glance over, she has her egg and avocado salad completely put together and is reaching for the cantaloupe.
“I can’t believe how fast you are with that thing,” I say, using my knife to point at hers.
She offers me a small smile. “I use one a lot. I do a ton of cutting and chopping for the bed and breakfast.”
I keep one eye on what I’m doing and one eye on the beauty beside me. “You’re stunning, but when you’re working in the kitchen, in your element, you’re incredibly beautiful.” She doesn’t respond, but I can feel her eyes on me. When I glance her way, she’s giving me an incredulous look. “What? You don’t believe me?” I ask, setting my knife down and turning to face her.
“Uhh, no,” she replies with an uncomfortable chuckle, as if to blow off my statement. She turns back to her chopping, but not before I see the sexy blush creep up her cheeks.
Placing my hand on top of hers to keep from one of us losing a finger, I help her set the knife aside and turn her to face me. My fingers itch to touch her smooth skin, but I know as soon as I do, I won’t be able to stop. So instead, I place my hand on her hip and pull her close. A strand of hair falls forward, and I can’t stop myself from taking that strand in my hand. It feels smooth and silky and smells like flowers. “I don’t know who hurt you, but he deserves to have his ass kicked.”
I mean the words, even though they bite. They bite because I’ve been that asshole. I’m the guy who loves ’em and leaves ’em. That’s all I know. Well, that’s not technically true, but that’s all I’ve convinced myself I could have. Relationships lead to pain and regret, but if I were going to give up my bed-hopping ways, it would be for a woman just like Marissa.
“He’s not worth the energy,” she replies with a smile, making my own lips curl upward.
“You’ve got that right, Angel. Now, how about we finish off these dishes so I can throw the chicken on the grill?” I ask, placing a kiss on her forehead and taking a step back. I definitely need a little space.
“You grill?” she asks, glancing at me over her shoulder as she finishes cutting the fruit.
“I’m a man. Of course I grill. It’s in my DNA.”
“But I thought you didn’t cook.” She places the final bowl in the fridge, rearranging a few containers so that the last two will fit.
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t throw a thick, juicy steak on the barbeque.”
“We’re having chicken,” she sasses, crossing her arms and resting her hip against the counter across from me.
“Easy peasy.”
Her eyebrow rises as she tries to decide if she believes me or not. The truth is, I’m a whiz on the grill. Hell, I’ve barely ever turned on the stove, but my grill gets regular use. Throw a slab of meat on, take one of the side dishes out of the fridge that I picked up at the deli, and you’ve got a meal. That’s the only way I eat, if it’s not ordered out. Well, that and cereal dinners. I hate to admit how many of those bad boys I’ve consumed since graduating high school, but it’s a lot. Lucky Charms are my favorite, and I only have to spend an extra ten minutes on the treadmill to make up for my lack of a nutritious dinner the night before.
Totally worth it though.
“Trust me, Angel. I got this,” I confirm, placing another kiss on her forehead as the door opens.
“Aww, did I catch you two neckin’ in the kitchen? You know, tabletop sex is some of the best sex around. There’s just something about doing the dirty where you ate your Cheerios this morning,” Emma says as she sweeps into the room.
“We’re not…”
“Well, not yet, darling. You’re both still clothed. And I do admit, I’m a little bummed I arrived too early at the party. I’ve been dying to see the bare ass on this one since that self-defense class he taught. My loins were burning for hours, if you know what I mean,” Emma coos to Marissa, making her cheeks fire-engine red.
I can practically feel the heat from Marissa’s blush from a foot away. While I’m used to Emma’s brand of sexual humor, her niece beside me isn’t, and I’m pretty sure she wants to crawl in a hole right now and hide. I, on the other hand, want to talk more about this table sex…
