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I laugh. Titling my head to the side, I say to Shoshanna, "So, doctor, surgeon, hairdresser. What can't you do?"
"I had to learn," she admits softly. "My sister Akila had an accident that left her with— Well, it's complicated, but basically put, brain damage and paraplegia. She wouldn't let anyone else touch her for years, so I learned how to do it."
My smile falls. I blink ahead, not being able to see her expression, only able to hear her tone tighten. Wishing I hadn't assumed... I don't know. Wishing I hadn't made her sad. "I'm so sorry, Shoshanna."
The mood shifts, hurting my heart in my ignorance.
She starts to brush and then snip, brush and then snip. "It sucks. Sucks even more that I couldn't let her go when she wanted to. I'll never do that again. It's no life to live. I knew better as well. It's just not a life."
"Shosh," Cassidy whispers, having swallowed her mouthful and placed the burger down on the plate.
"It's fine, Cassidy." She clears her throat. "What can't I do?" She repeats my question from before, her tone upbeat once again. "I can't cook for the life of me. Bronson cooks everything in our house. He's like an old Siciliannonnain the kitchen. That is, if you can ignore thekiss-the-cookapron and the fact he's usually naked."
I laugh, imagining his butt peeking out from his apron.
She adds, "He'd be a nudist if he could."
Thinking about the warm fragrant mist from the oven and a wave of scent blanketing me, I grin widely. Cooking resonates in the maternal side of me, in my soul. It's special. Underrated. Putting different textures and different chemicals together, culminating in decadence.
It's chemistry.
It's magic.
A week ago, Maggie taught me how to create the perfect crust on a pork belly. I watched Clay bite into it, his dark brows rising in satisfaction in a moment he couldn't hide. It was the best feeling. I waited with bated breath to hear the crunch of his teeth as they sunk through the skin, and then I pictured the salty juices spilling around the morsel. "I love to cook," I quip dreamily.
"I love to eat!" Cassidy sings, and we all chuckle a little, letting the conversation lighten.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
fawn
It'smy new favourite song. Cassidy and Shoshanna went back to their room half an hour ago to sleep but I slept all day, so I'm still wired.And he isn't home…
I lift my arms up, making little circling motions in the air above my head with my fingers. The silk of my dress rises to my underwear seam, the fabric caressing my skin, that sensual caress of silk on flesh arousing me.
Closing my eyes, I hum to the melody just as the sound of a door opening snatches me from my dreamy state. I open my eyes and meet the owner of a heated blue gaze. My heart fills with love for this man. My everything. A guardian. A boyfriend. A lover. A teacher.
He frowns at me, and I smile a little harder. Happy. I'm so happy when he's close. When he sees me.
"Who touched your hair?" he asks smoothly, but he might as well have asked who broke my arm because his body takes on a predator’s cold, alarming stillness.
Continuing to sway my hips under his penetrative stare, I ask sweetly, "Don't you like it? It's just a few inches shorter."
He lowers his head, staring at me through his top lashes. "Doyoulike it?"
Swooning at his protective nature, I nod, still dancing seductively. "Yes. I do."
"Very well. But next time, little deer, you ask me before you changeanythingabout yourself. Give me the opportunity to prepare for that change. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," I agree as he takes a measured step towards me, his potent energy filling the room.
His attention seems to have tangible depth—God, it can slide along my skin, squeeze my flesh. I roll my head as the reverie of his touch forces a soft hum through my lips. And as he traces his lower lip with his tongue, my nipples tighten.
Absolute control.
Even from this distance.
I've never danced for him before. I skim my hands down the side of my face and over the front of my dress, rolling my hips as my palms slide over the now aching pointed beads.
