AllFreeNovel
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He turns, and the harsh light catches his face, illuminating his hard male beauty, and my mouth goes utterly dry. “Nice dress.”
“I was wearing this earlier.” I smooth my fingers down over the front of the floral-printed cotton.
The dress isn’t anything to write home about. It’s just above the knee, loose fit, and comfortable. He’s looking at me like I’m in lingerie.
I go to the cupboard and start pulling out some things. Canned Italian tomatoes, spaghetti, and my secret ingredient, star anise.
“Are they mini throw stars?” He’s staring at the jar.
I laugh. “A spice.” Then I gesture for him to get out of the way. “No eating before dinner.”
“Fuck, you’re a pain. I forgot lunch.”
“So, eat extra.”
And my skin heats as his gaze slides over me. “I just might.”
Oh, Lord. I suck in a shaky breath and start pulling out onions, garlic, a block of parmesan, the mix of ground pork and veal, the bay leaves, and the fresh basil. I put it all down. “Get the bottle of red we got.”
“Ma’am.”
He’s such a jerk. But I’m smiling as I get out the red pepper and salad ingredients.
Dragging out the pots and pans would keep me from looking at him, but he takes them from me each time. And each time, he brushes my fingers with his. Deliberately, and my engine revs a little higher.
We prep together, Christian is good with a knife. Then again, of course, he is. After all, his line of work . . . I take a breath as I watch. His movements are smooth and almost sensual, the knife like an extension of him.
He makes quick work of the onion and garlic, only a muttered swear word giving away the fact the onion affects him.
“Why are you smiling like an evil demon there, sweetness?”
“You, the onion.”
He narrows his eyes. “They’re evil too. With their damn juices.”
“Not the juices,” I say, lighting the pan on the stove and adding the olive oil. Then I grab the board from him and hand him the pepper along with a fresh one. “It’s gas. Some kind of acid and an enzyme that gets in the air and irritates the eyes.”
“And here I thought it was just the onion getting revenge.”
I laugh and scrape the chopped pieces into the pan with the wooden spoon. He starts in on the pepper. “That’s one way of putting it.”
He pauses as I add ground pepper and a pinch of salt, along with the tiniest amount of baking soda and three-star anise. “What’s all that for?”
“The star anise brings out the meat flavor and deepens it. And the baking soda brings on a higher pH, which speeds up the onions, so they brown faster and break down more quickly. It’s like a cooking hack. Instead of spending three hours slowly cooking them to bring out the depths and sweetness, this does it in a fifth of the time.”
Christian stares at me. “And you know this how?”
“The chef at my brother’s place taught me, and so did the one we had growing up. I like it. I find it soothing. But it’s not as much fun for one.”
“You can cook for me anytime, sweetness.”
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
“It was.”
“In Christian-speak, maybe.”
He just laughs and hands me the second board, and I point to the cans of tomatoes. When the meat has browned, and the tomatoes added, I lower the heat, and he takes the spoon, sliding his fingers slowly along mine as he does so.
