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“I’d like,” Eve says, turning to look at me, her eyes shining with excitement. “I’d like so much.”
I hang back as Eve follows the chef into the kitchen. This lesson is for her and her alone. Since our wedding day was such a disaster, I wanted to get Eve something she could enjoy. Véronique Cauchon seems like a nice woman now, but she had no interest in meeting with a fan (regardless of whether that fan just got married or not) until I added a series of zeroes to the end of her price. Once the price was right, she became the nicest woman in the world. But I don’t regret the expense for a second. Especially when Eve claps and actually giggles when she hears they are going to make croquembouche.
“Croke-am-what?” I ask, taking a seat at one of the stools along the wall.
“Croquembouche,” Eve says. “A tower of cream puffs covered in caramel.”
“It is often served at weddings in France,” Véronique says.
I just nod and decide to stay quiet so as not to ruin the experience at all. And honestly, I find it quite enjoyable to sit back and watch Eve cook. She moves with grace in the kitchen. I can tell she is nervous cooking in front of Véronique, but she is eager to learn and ask questions. I expect to be bored after a few minutes, but Eve’s happiness is infectious. This was supposed to be a gift for her to enjoy, but I’m finding that it is the best part of my day, as well. For one dark moment, I wonder what my father would say if he could see that this is what I left the meeting to do, but just as quickly as it comes, I push the thought away and focus on Eve. She grins up at me as she stacks cream puffs into a tower, and I feel my stomach give a small, happy flip.
16
Luka
I carry the croquembouche into the mansion carefully, doing my best to keep the plastic wrap laying over top of it from flying away in the wind. Eve opens all the doors for me, warning me about steps and the corner of cabinets as if it isn’t my house.
“I’ve lived here longer than you,” I remind her.
“If you had any idea how long this took, then you’d understand.”
“I was there!”
She laughs. “Oh, yeah. Véronique was so incredible that I kind of forgot about you. No offense.”
“Wow. You really know how to hurt a guy’s feelings,” I say, placing the plate on the table and laying a hand over my heart in mock offense. “Don’t forget who arranged your meeting with your idol.”
Suddenly, Eve’s arms are around my neck, and my arms wrap around her without hesitation. “Thank you, Luka. Seriously. Best night ever.”
I pull back to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Ever?”
She looks confused and then rolls her eyes and smiles. “Fine. Second only to last night, which was the real best night ever.”
I’m only teasing her, but it really was the best night ever. I’ve been with plenty of women and had enough one-night stands and meaningless sex to last a lifetime. No one ever made me feel the way Eve does. It was the first night I ever spent with a woman, and it felt more natural than sleeping by myself.
Eve pulls out of my arms and carefully lifts the plastic wrapping from the cream puff tower. “We should eat some of this tonight because it isn’t going to be as good tomorrow.”
She doesn’t need to tell me twice I pluck the cream puff from the top, breaking the hardening strands of caramel sauce, and start to bring it towards my mouth. However, before I can, Eve grabs my wrist and puts the puff in her mouth.
“Hey!”
She shrugs and smiles. “Chef gets the first cream puff. You can have the second one.”
I open my mouth and point to it. “Fine, but after that rude display, you have to feed it to me.”
She flips her long brown hair over her shoulder and presses her pouty lips together, trying to hide her smile, as she grabs the next cream puff and hands it to me.
I shake my head and point to my mouth again. “In my mouth, please.”
She rolls her eyes, but they are sparkling with amusement, and I can’t help but fall into them as she brings the cream puff to my mouth. I eat it from her fingers slowly, mostly to tease her, but as I do, something in her eyes shift. When I grab the next cream puff, she opens her mouth. “Now, it’s my turn.”
I play along, holding it out to her. Eve leans forward, her shift dress gaping at the neck, giving me a nice view down her chest, but my attention is drawn upwards when her lips wrap around my fingers. Slowly and sensually, she drags her lips down my fingers, pulling the cream puff from my grip, her eyes locked on mine the entire time. All at once, the blood in my body begins to rush south.
Eve turns to grab me another cream puff, but I’m tired of the game. I grab her hand out of mid-air and wrap it around my neck. Wordlessly, she jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I carry her up the stairs and into the bedroom.
By the time we get there, my shirt and pants are unbuttoned, and I peel her dress off in one fluid motion as soon as I set her down. She drops to her knees, pulls me free from my pants, and looks up at me the same way she did in the kitchen.
Except, this time, she isn’t putting a cream puff in her mouth.
