Do Me (Irresistible Husband)

by Sheryl Lister

  Braxton smiled and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I didn’t think so. We’ve got time and when it’s right we’ll both be ready.”

  Where had this man been all her life? Most others would have had her in their beds and naked—particularly since she could feel his throbbing erection pressed against her—but Braxton appeared to be from a throwback era of men who took time to court a woman. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy for her to let her guard down. In that moment, Londyn fell a little harder. “Thank you.” She backed out of his embrace.

  “There’s a bathroom right down the hall you can use. I’ll be right back.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and strode out of the kitchen.

  Still trying to get her breathing under control, Londyn cleaned up and made her way back to the kitchen. The heated interlude had left her throbbing everywhere and it took a few seconds to remember what she’d been doing. Oh, yeah, the dough. When he came back, she picked up their previous conversation. She needed to say something to distract her from what just happened. “Now that you know what I’m making, it’s your turn to share.”

  “I decided on surf and turf. You mentioned having trouble with steaks, so I’m going to make you one that’ll melt in your mouth.” He pointed to two large lobster tails that had been cracked with the meat resting on top of the shell and skewers packed with vegetables—corn, mushrooms, green and red bell peppers, and zucchini. “We’ll have these brushed with an herbed butter. All of it will be done on the grill. And since you’re making French bread from scratch, I’m going to leave those store-bought ones I have in the freezer.” Braxton kissed the tip of her nose. “Oh, and because you seem to have this thing with purple, for drinks, I’m going to whip up a Purple People-eater. The ingredients are a secret, so I’m not telling.”

  Her mouth watered and she’d concede him that one. “I think I just got hungry,” she said with a smile. “While you make the ice cream, I’m going to get the cobbler and bread ready.”

  “Doesn’t the bread have to rise a couple of times? Or at least that’s what my sister always says when I beg her to make rolls.”

  “I did the first rise overnight in the refrigerator to save time and took it out to bring to room temperature about thirty minutes before you arrived. It should be ready to bake in about an hour.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Braxton took the old-fashioned crank-style ice cream maker out to the deck, layered the ice and rock salt, sealed it and rotated the arm.

  Londyn stood there watching the play of muscles in his arms flex and bunch with each revolution. He glanced up, caught her staring and grinned. “That man’s smile is going to get me in so much trouble,” she muttered, spinning around and going back to the counter. After finishing, she opened the sliding door. “How’s it coming?”

  “It’s getting stiff, so I think it’s close to being ready. You all done?”

  “Yep. Bread is rising and the cobbler’s in the oven.” They had worked in a relaxed domesticity reminiscent of a married couple and it gave her pause.

  “Hey.” Braxton touched her arm. “Where did you go?”

  He had a way of looking at her with such caring that it both frightened and excited her. “I was just calculating cooking times. Did you say something?”

  He shook his head and continued to scrutinize her as if he didn’t believe a word she’d said.

  “Is it done?”

  “Let’s see. I’ll be back with a couple of spoons.” He disappeared inside, came back in a flash and handed her a spoon. Opening the lid, he was poised to dip in his spoon when she stopped him.

  “I think I should go first. I want to make sure it tastes good.” Londyn scooped out a small portion of the soft cream and brought it to her mouth. She had outdone herself this time and it was all she could do not to break out in a dance. Keeping her features neutral, she gestured for him to try it.

  Braxton’s eyes widened and he groaned. “This is the best damn ice cream I’ve ever eaten.”

  A wide grin spread across her face. “And it’s going to be even better with the peach cobbler.” She wiggled her eyebrows. They repacked it so it could harden and went back inside. Londyn took a seat at the bar.

  “I see I’m going to have to up my cooking game with you.” He melted butter in a small bowl, added several herbs and brushed the mixture first over the vegetables, then the seafood. “Would you like some music?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. I never cook without it.”

  He washed and dried his hands. “You should’ve said something earlier. What do you want to hear?”

  “R&B or jazz.”

  “I have playlist with a mixture of both.” He picked up his phone and pressed several buttons. The sound of Maxwell’s voice flowed from hidden speakers. “Come dance with me.” He extended his hand and helped her off the stool.

  Londyn wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, while he sang the words of “Fortunate” softly. As she listened to the lyrics, she agreed with the artist because she was fortunate that Braxton had come into her life. Even if things didn’t work out later, she now knew how it felt to have a man treat her as if she were a priceless jewel. When the song ended, he didn’t miss a beat as he swung her out and moved in rhythm to an up-tempo Boney James tune. “Where did you learn to dance so well?”

  Laughing, he said, “I couldn’t go to all the school dances and get on that floor and make a fool of myself. The guys and the girls would’ve teased me forever.”

  She giggled. “You’re right. I remember how ruthless teens can be.”

  “They are. My niece also keeps me up to date with the latest moves. Although, some of these new dances are too much for this old body. I don’t even know how they get their body parts to move like that.”

  He demonstrated a move that contorted his body and looked like a broken Frankenstein. Londyn doubled over laughing until tears ran down her face. “Okay, I’m done,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

  Braxton wasn’t any better. When they finally calmed down, he kissed her temple. “Maybe we should just listen to the music instead.”

  “I think you might be right.” She wiped the lingering moisture from the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t had this much fun with a guy in… She stilled. She’d never laughed with a man this way or felt so comfortable with one, and definitely not in such a short time.

  “How long does it take for the bread to cook?”

  “About twenty or twenty-five minutes.” She checked to see how much it had risen. “It should be ready to bake in about ten minutes.” She glanced over at the oven timer. The cobbler still had another five minutes.

  He angled his head. “Okay. I’m going to start the grill. Hopefully, we can have everything done close to the same time. How do you like your steak cooked?”

  “Extra juicy with no pink.”

  With a smile and shake of his head, he left her standing there.

  They sat down to eat half an hour later. Braxton turned on the fireplace. The mouth-watering aromas from the meat, vegetables and bread had her stomach growling loud enough to shake the walls.

  Braxton slanted her a glance. “Does that mean you’re hungry.”

  “Starved.” Londyn rubbed her hands together. “Let’s get our eat on.” They filled their plates and sat at the table that Braxton had set with elegant white china that matched his gray theme, and candles. She wanted to save the steak for last, so she sampled the vegetable kabob first. The herbed butter brought out the flavors perfectly. “Mmm.” The lobster was just as good. She rotated her plate, cut into the steak and popped it into her mouth. Braxton sat watching her, seemingly waiting for her verdict. “Oh, my goodness.” She moaned and swooned in her chair.

  He lifted a brow, but was smiling. “That good?”

  “So much better than good. This is melt-in-your-mouth, slap-your-mama good!” She leaned forward for emphasis. “You can cook for me forever.” She gasped softly. What the hell did I j
ust say?

  Braxton couldn’t stop staring at Londyn. And he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wondering “what if.” She hadn’t said a word since she’d made the statement and did her best not to look at him. He had been enjoying their camaraderie and didn’t want it to end with her being uncomfortable. Placing his fork on his plate, he rounded the table and hunkered down next to her. “Look at me, Londyn.”

  Her head slowly came up. “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to suggest anything because—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. “The thought never crossed my mind.” Somehow, when she’d said it, the words didn’t hit him the way they had with Taryn, who only took, but never gave. Londyn had given him more in three weeks than all of the women in his past combined. “I tell you what, if things don’t work out with us, I’ll still cook for you every now and again if you promise more of those brownies and that ice cream.”

  Londyn gave him the smile he’d come to look for and said, “It’s a deal.”

  “Can we go back to having fun now? I thought we were having a good time.”

  She caressed his cheek, then leaned down and touched her mouth to his. “We were having the best time.”

  The feel of her soft lips on his almost made his control slip and he thought it best that he return to his side of the table and grabbed his drink. Instead of a sip, he gulped down a good portion of it, hoping it would cool his arousal.

  She picked up her glass. “By the way, this is really good. The deep purple is my favorite color.” She took a sip and resumed eating. Minutes passed before she spoke again. “Okay, I need you to tell me what you did to this steak.”

  “Seasoned it and threw it on the grill.”

  Londyn narrowed her eyes. “So that’s how you want to play it, huh? Well, me and my warm peach cobbler and delicious ice cream can just go home.”

  The sparkle was back in her eyes and her playfulness had returned. “That’s playing dirty, doc.”

  “No dirtier than you, Mr. Harper.”

  Braxton held up his hands in surrender. “You win. There’s no way I’m letting you leave without sampling your dessert.” She smothered a giggle and he realized what he’d said. “Your peach cobbler and ice cream,” he clarified. Though sampling her was never far from his mind. And every time he thought about what happened earlier, it made him hard. He was damn near forty and believed he had good control of his sexual urges, but Londyn proved him wrong each and every time they were together. She might be physically ready, but those fleeting moments of uncertainty he saw in her eyes told him, emotionally, she hadn’t quite gotten there. At some point, he knew the attraction building between them would reach a boiling point. He only hoped when it did, they’d both be on the same page. He glanced up to find her staring at him expectantly. He’d been so lost in his thoughts, he almost forgot what she asked. “It all starts with a good cut of meat. If you’re shopping in the grocery store, I’d go for the USDA Choice grade. It’ll have more marbling, which will result in a more tender and juicy steak.”

  “Is that what this is?”

  “No. This is prime grade, what you usually find in the more expensive restaurants or hotels.”

  “You went out of your way to do this, didn’t you? Because I don’t ever recall seeing that grade of meat in a regular grocery store.”

  Braxton didn’t think of it as going out of his way. When he liked a woman—and he liked Londyn a lot—he tried to show her in whatever ways he could. “I wanted you to have a good steak.”

  Londyn grasped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And you did. It was the best steak I’ve ever had, restaurants, included. I just hope my peach cobbler doesn’t bring the meal down.”

  “If it’s as good as your brownies, it can only enhance the meal. As soon as my food settles, it’s gonna be me, a big piece of cobbler and as much of that ice cream I can fit in my bowl.” They cleared the table together, then he led her into the family room to relax. He brought her close to him on the sofa and draped an arm around her shoulders.

  She sighed. “I’m so full right now, I could fall asleep.” She rested her head against his shoulder.

  “You can stretch out if you like.”

  “I’m fine right here.”

  So was he. “Do you want to watch TV?”

  “Mmm, no. The music is nice,” she murmured.

  Braxton leaned back and closed his eyes. They didn’t talk. He didn’t need to say anything, content with listening to the wail of the saxophone and being with her. He couldn’t recall when he’d last enjoyed a woman so much. Typically, he had a tendency to be more on the serious side, unless he was around his immediate family and his two friends. But he’d bantered and joked with Londyn as easily as if he’d done it all his life. He didn’t know how much time had passed when she called his name softly.

  “Braxton?”

  “What is it?”

  “I think I’m ready for dessert.”

  Chuckling, he said, “I’ve been ready.”

  Londyn lifted her head, frowned and elbowed him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I was enjoying holding you in my arms.” He stroked a finger down her cheek.

  “So, remember what happened earlier in the kitchen?”

  “You mean the kisses?”

  Londyn nodded. “I think we should get off this couch before we get into trouble.” She jumped up and nearly ran to the kitchen.

  Braxton rose to his feet and followed, a wide grin plastered on his face. He asked her to get bowls from a cabinet while he retrieved the ice cream churn and placed it in the sink. “Serving spoons and the ice cream scoop are in that drawer.” He pointed. Londyn dished up the cobbler and before she could put the spoon in the sink, Braxton grabbed it, dug out a big spoonful and put it in his mouth. He prayed no one in his family ever asked him who made the best peach cobbler because he’d most likely never get any food from his mother and sister again. Londyn’s beat theirs, hands down and he thought no one could bake as well as the women in his family. Her French bread had been amazing, as well. “I’m going to say this and, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll deny it and never speak to you again. But this is better than my mom’s.”

  “Hey, now.” She snapped her fingers and did a little hip swerve.

  He’d known her less than a month, but he had to find a way to keep this woman in his life.

  Chapter 7

  “I guess I’m going to have to get used to these weeknight dinners, since your weekends are tied up with Braxton,” Monique teased as she hugged Londyn.

  Londyn pulled her friend into the foyer. “Oh, hush and come in. Felicia’s already here.”

  “The only reason I came is because I want to get an update on your relationship…and because I knew you were making French bread.”

  Felicia poked her head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Nique. And that’s why I’m here, too.”

  “Hey, girl.” They embraced. “The bread smells so good.”

  Londyn placed her hands on her hips. “Both of you can just leave. And you know what? I’m not telling y’all nothing.” Ignoring them, she placed slices of the bread in a basket with a small bowl of softened butter. She had decided on a salad bar with chicken, shrimp, cheeses, a variety of vegetables and bacon with a honey-lime vinaigrette for their Thursday dinner. Felicia had made mango margaritas to drink. Once they were settled at the table, Londyn asked Monique about the dinner date she’d had.

  Monique rolled her eyes. “All I know is the next time my cousin tries to set me up with someone, I’m going to seriously hurt her. He’s forty-one and works as a business manager and we hit it off pretty well at my cousin’s house. We were supposed to go to dinner, but we ended up at one of those dinner clubs.” She slanted them a glance. “For the thirty and under crowd. The music was so loud and obnoxious I couldn’t hear myself think. He got mad because I didn’t want to dance and refused to pay for the two drinks and expensive bottle of wine he ordered.”


  “I’m getting mad and I wasn’t even there,” Felicia said with disgust.

  “Do you know what he said when I pointed out that he’d asked me out, not the other way around? He told me, ‘you’re a doctor, you can afford it.’”

  Londyn’s mouth fell open. “Oh, I know he didn’t. What did you do?”

  “Threw up the deuces, called Lyft and took my ass home,” she finished with a smug smile. They dissolved in a fit of laughter.

  “I would’ve loved to see his expression when that bill came and you were nowhere around,” Londyn said, still chuckling.

  Felicia wiped tears from her eyes. “Same. Did he try to call you later?”

  Monique shook her head. “Not once. When I got home, I blocked his number, then called my cousin and told her she’d better not ever mention my name to another man. The good thing is I had him pick me up a block from my office, so he has no idea where I live.”

  “I have to wonder if he lied about his job,” Londyn said, spearing a cucumber.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.” Monique frowned. “Enough of that. I’m trying to enjoy my bread.”

  “Since I haven’t seen any action in at least four months, we can just skip me and go straight to Londyn.” Felicia sipped her margarita. “Oh, this is good. Go ahead, girl. Spill it.”

  “We’ve only talked by text or phone for the past couple of weeks because both our schedules have been hectic.” She couldn’t believe it was the end of March already, and a little over a month since she’d met Braxton. It seemed like they’d known each other much longer. “But he cooked for me and, oh, my goodness, the man can cook!”

  “Please tell me has at least one brother.”

  “Sorry, Felicia. He only has an older sister.”

  “What about friends? I figure he wouldn’t be hanging out with scrubs.”

  She smiled. “He mentioned a couple of guys, but I have no idea whether they’re married or not.”

  “Two? That means one for you and one for me, Felicia.”