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It’s Jocelin who finally pulls back. “Mmmm. That’s a lovely greeting.” He glances at the food bags. “What did you get?”
With one arm still around his waist, I drag the bags toward us. “Just sandwiches and chips from the deli. Nothing fancy.”
“I made you something.” The unexpected change in subject makes me pause, but before I can respond, Jocelin continues. “Well, baked something. Not by myself. Mrs. Clarke helped. But I did most of it.”
I can’t contain my grin. “You baked something for me with Mrs. Clarke?” He’s just too adorable. I glance around the kitchen, trying to spot the ‘something.’
“Cookies.” Jocelin points to a container tucked in the corner of the kitchen counter.
He now has my undivided attention. “Cookies? What kind of cookies?”
His grin is huge, and he’s practically bouncing in my arms. “Your favorites.”
“Butter cookies?” If he says yes, I’m not sure this day can get any better.
He nods and pulls me over to the container. “Do you want to try one? I tried one, and I think they’re good. Mrs. Clarke says you have to try everything you make, otherwise you won’t know if it’s good. And you don’t want to serve anything that you wouldn’t eat yourself.”
I can’t help myself. I lean down and kiss him, quieting his excited rambling. He sighs against my lips and wraps his arms around my neck. My hands drift to his perfect ass, and I give it a squeeze. “I would love to try one.”
Almost instantly, I have an armful of air as he lunges for the container, shoving the box at me. Laughing, I carefully open it and grin at the layers of golden brown cookies nestled inside. They look exactly like the ones Mrs. Clarke usually bakes. Curious, I pluck one out of the box and pop it in my mouth. And moan. The sweet, sugary goodness melts on my tongue, and I’m in heaven. “Oh, god. Joce, these are amazing!”
I steal another before Jocelin snaps the lid closed and pulls the box out of reach. “These are for after lunch. Mrs. Clarke’s orders.”
“You two have become very chummy.” I pop the second cookie into my mouth and close my eyes for a second as I moan again. “These are really good, babe. I mean it. I thought you didn’t cook.”
He shrugs. “I don’t. Or I didn’t. This was my first attempt.”
“Well, it was a successful first attempt.” I kiss the tip of his nose and grab the food bags. “Let’s eat so we can get to the cookies.” I hand the sandwiches to Jocelin and pour two glasses of water, then follow him into the living room. We set up lunch on the coffee table and dig in as I tell him about my conversation with Tadhg and Tom. He blushes as much as I did but thankfully finds the humor in it, too.
“At least it’s over. And you get to work from home this afternoon. It was very nice of Tadhg to let you. I’ll have to thank him next time I see him.”
“He says hello and to text him when you feel like talking. For now, he and Quinn are respecting your privacy, but they wanted me to tell you they’re here for you if you need them.”
Jocelin nods, and his eyes go a little glassy, but he shakes it off and concentrates on eating. When we finish, I gather up all the trash, shoving it into one of the bags, then give Jocelin my best ‘I’m a good boy’ face. “Can I eat cookies now?”
He laughs and gives me a playful shove. “You are such a little boy. A charming little boy, but still.” He grabs the bag of trash and heads for the kitchen, and I trail behind, turning on the kettle. Once the water boils and we’ve fixed hot beverages, we go back into the living room, the box of cookies carefully tucked under my arm.
“So how did you end up baking with Mrs. Clarke?”
He takes a sip of his tea and settles back against the sofa. “She saw me in the backyard and invited me in for tea. Somehow, we ended up making cookies. It was terrifying and exciting, all at the same time.”
I devour another cookie. “Well, they turned out perfectly. You’re a natural.”
Jocelin bites his lower lip and scrunches up his nose. “I think I want to keep cooking and try different recipes.”
His hesitance is adorable, but I want him to know I support him. “Maybe you’d like to try making something else with me?”
Jocelin smirks and side-eyes me. “Are we talking cooking or…something else?”
I laugh. “Both? Initially, I meant cooking, though I’m all for trying some non-kitchen related cooking after that.” I waggle my eyebrows at him.
He nudges my shoulder again. “What would we make?”
What do I know how to cook that won’t overwhelm him? “How about something simple for dinner? Something a little more advanced than jelly sandwiches but less complicated than a souffle.”
Jocelin frowns, his eyes wary. “Like what?”
“How about stew? You throw a bunch of things into a pot with some broth and let it cook for several hours. That’s about it.”
