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Parker
He’s finer than any man has the right to be. The surprise in his eyes was worth me spending the ten thousand dollars for tonight. After he dismissed his students, he began preparing the meal for tonight. I asked him to prepare two, one for both of us and to give the students the rest. He took me to the smaller kitchen and sat me at the breakfast bar that’s situated directly in front of the kitchen he was preparing to cook in.
“How long have you been cooking?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“I’ve been cooking since I was a young boy,” he answers as his long nimble fingers begin to chop the vegetables he has chosen for tonight.
“Was it to ensure you got your mom’s attention in a household of eight brothers?” I assume.
“I actually started cooking with my dad. He taught me and my mom how to cook traditional meals that he grew up on, and from there, it just took on a life of its own. My mom did a great job giving each of us attention in ways we needed individually, and so did my dad. I never felt I needed to come into their space so I could have time with them. It was more like I wanted them out of my space so I could try to get into trouble, but when they weren’t there, Josh was.”
I watch the muscles in his arms bunch and flex as he efficiently goes about preparing our dinner, and it makes me wonder how his arms would do the same while making love. Then again, a man like him would be feral in bed, a beast let out of his cage. “Aww, yes, Joshua Gideon, the oldest real estate construction mogul. I did a bit of research on you and your family after meeting you at Noelani’s party. Google is a girl’s best friend,” I tell him at his raised eyebrow.
“Yes, he is the oldest of us and a second father, almost. He watched for all of us as best he could and, more often than not, caught us before we could do anything truly stupid.”
“Were you often trying to do stupid stuff?” I ask, marveling at his effortless efficiency. It doesn’t take long for my mouth to start watering from the spells he is creating.
“I did enough, but I know you didn’t spend ten thousand dollars just to talk about me being an idiot teenager. What did you want to talk to me about so badly?”
Straight to the point, he doesn’t waste energy or words. “I wanted to hire you to cook for a dinner party I am throwing.”
“No,” he says literally before the words are out of my mouth.
“No?”
“Exactly, no!”
“You didn’t even think about it. You did such an exquisite job cooking for Noelani that I knew you’d be the perfect person for this dinner,” I take a forkful of the cucumber avocado salad he placed in front of me, along with sparkling water infused with fresh berries. “Dear god, this is delicious!” I practically moan out as I do a happy dance in my seat. The lemon honey dressing he made to go with it is sweet, tangy, and spicy due to the chili flakes. I polish the bowl off in short order along with the water, and he refills them both instantly.
“I do not need to think about it. The only reason I cooked for Noelani was as a favor to my sister. I do not cook outside of what I choose to cook for,” he places the bowl with the marinated steaks in the refrigerator.
“I didn’t think you had any sisters,” the fork frozen halfway to my mouth.
“My sisters-in-law, they are my sisters,” he begins working on the desert.
“I see. I did read about them too. One is an author, the other has made waves with her work with domestic violence shelters, the other is the owner of one of the best hair care lines ever, and the other is the top black woman lawyer in Mississippi. And I think there is one who is making quite a name for herself as an interior designer. Amazing, accomplished women are married to your brothers. What about the rest of you? Aren’t you looking to get married?”
“My other brothers are already spoken for; Aryan has a wonderful woman, and Jabarri has met someone too. I would not be surprised if they were both married soon.”
“And you?” I have to ask.
“What about me?”
“Don’t be coy,” I retort.
“Coy!” he freezes at my choice of words. “There is nothing coy about me. I am not opposed to marriage if the right woman were to come along.”
“Now that has been established, will you consider cooking?”
“I have already given you my answer.”
“Fine,” I say and pout, and it is not for show. I am very disappointed.
“Don’t do that,” he barks, making me jump.
“Do what?” I say, confused.
“Pout.”
