“Really?” I always saw Danny as a soft touch. He didn’t let Desmond get away with everything, but he was definitely the more permissive parent.
“Oh, yeah. It was good timing, because I was sick of it all anyway. So that spring, I had an insane class schedule. I brought up my grades, and I figured out my major. And I stopped, um, dating so much.”
I pushed away my almost-empty plate. “Why did you ask me out? Did you think I was going to be one of those girls you ‘um, dated’?”
Jesse smiled. “I’m not going to lie, that first day I saw you, ‘um, dating’ was definitely on my mind. You were on the sofa, looking all sleepy and soft. I was like…” He sucked in a deep breath. “Like, who is this? And then Dad and Sarah said how great you are. Des never stops talking about you. But I didn’t want to get back into the party spiral in grad school. I promised my dad I’d be focused on my classes here, and I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t.”
“What changed your mind?”
He tugged my hand until I slipped off the stool and braced my feet on the floor, closer to him but still leaning on my own chair. “It was three things.” He held up one finger. “First, you can cook. I’ve never met a girl who can do that. Or at least a girl who’s as gorgeous as you and can cook.” He let go of my hand and snaked an arm around my waist. “Two, you love Joss Whedon. That shows excellent taste.” He leaned just a smidge closer to touch his lips to mine. “And last, every time I saw you, I wanted to touch you. To kiss you, or hold your hand, or even just brush past you. It was getting overwhelming. I was either going to ask you out or grab you while you were here taking care of Des. The going out seemed like a better idea.”
“It does,” I agreed. “I’m glad you did.”
“I really like you, Julia.” Jesse tightened his hands behind my back and lowered his mouth to my ear. “More than I remember liking anyone, ever. But if I get too much, if you feel like I’m too—” He rubbed up my back. “Too intense, you’ve got to tell me. I don’t want to push you into anything.”
I smiled up into his eyes. “Like I said before, do you hear me complaining? I promise. If I start to feel that way, I’ll tell you.”
“Cool.” He hugged me tight for a moment and then shifted back. “I know we should take things slow. At least I keep telling myself we should. You just got out of a relationship, and you were hurt, I know.” He slid his hands up my side, grinning. “I still really want to ‘um, date’ you. So remember that even if I seem to hold back, I don’t want to.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember.”
“Then I guess it’s dishes time.” He stood up and snagged both of our plates. “You cooked, I clean.”
I got home late on that Sunday night, but I was still surprised to see that the room was dark and Ava was in bed, the blanket pulled up over her ears.
“Ave, you sleeping?” I said it softly, and she didn’t even stir. Frowning, I hung up my coat and went into the bathroom to change for bed. It wasn’t like Ava not to wait up for me. As a matter of fact, when Liam and I were dating, I always had to remember to call her on the rare occasions I spent the night with him, so she didn’t worry.
I thought about it as I washed my face, brushed my teeth and pulled on pajamas. Ava had been acting weird since last weekend. She had seemed okay when I’d gotten home Friday night, after my date with Jesse; we had stayed up talking, and the only odd thing was that she hadn’t said much about her conversation with Liam after I left. I had expected to hear a full play-by-play, but she’d only shrugged and given me a vague answer.
Something was up, and I wondered if Liam was the cause.
Ava didn’t move when I clicked off the bathroom light and climbed into bed. It was a long time before I was able to slow down my mind enough to fall asleep.
Desmond was waiting for me at the window Monday afternoon when I arrived at work. He came running out the door the minute I stepped from the car.
“Doolia!”
I stooped to catch him, but he wriggled from my arms and grabbed my hand. “Come and see!”
He dragged me toward the kitchen, where Sarah stood, learning against the counter, smirking.
“Slow down, buddy.” I managed to stop long enough to shut the door behind me and drop my bag on a chair. “Where’s the fire?”
He giggled and kept tugging at me. “Not a fire, a kitty!” He knelt by a small round cushion, where a tiny gray kitten was sprawled, sound asleep.
“Oh, Des!” I sank down next to him and touched the cat with the tip of my finger. “Who is this?”
“Choo-Choo.” Desmond leaned over and buried his face in her fur. “Nanny and Poppa gave her to me.”
I glanced up at Sarah, who rolled her eyes. “True story.”
“Did you even know they were going to do that?” I dropped onto my backside and leaned against the wall.
“Oh, yeah, they called last week to ask me. Well, more like beg me. He’s wanted a cat so much. They have a neighbor whose cat, um—” She glanced at her son. “Well, she got into trouble. And they needed homes for the kittens, so here we are.”
“Choo-Choo?” I stroked the kitten’s delicate paw.
“Oh, it could have been worse. He wanted Caboose at first. We decided she’s gray, like the smoke that comes out of the old locomotives.”
“She’s my kitty, and I being vewy dentle with her.” Desmond demonstrated his gentleness by petting her between the ears with two chubby fingers. “See? She’s a baby. You have to be dentle.”
“I will, I promise.” I kissed the top of his head and got to my feet. “Did you have a good visit with your parents?”
“Yes, we did. We stayed too late. We didn’t get home until almost midnight, so everyone slept in this morning. Danny was late getting to class, and Des and I have been dragging around all morning.” She dropped her voice. “He’ll be good for an early nap, I think.”
“Gotcha.” I searched for something else to say. Sarah and I had an easy relationship, but I wasn’t sure how she felt about me dating her stepson. Jesse kept saying she and his dad were fine with it, but still…men didn’t always pick up the nuances that women did.
“I didn’t even get to the grocery store this morning. I took out a chicken to defrost, but I don’t have anything done for you to put in the oven.”
“Why don’t you let me make something?” I suggested. “Maybe chicken and dumplings?”
“Oh, Jules, you’re my hero. Thank you. That would be awesome. Do you have everything you need for it?”
“Flour and water. I’ll try to have it done by the time Dr. Fleming gets home.”
“Doolia, come here.” Desmond, tiring of the sleeping kitten, returned to snag my hand again. “Come play.”
I shot Sarah a rueful glance, and she grinned. “Seems like you have that effect on more than one Fleming male.”
I felt heat spread from my face. “I don’t—”
She laughed. “I’m just teasing you, Jules. Go play. I’m heading out, catch you later. Des, give Mommy a kiss before you drag off your woman.”
“She not my woman, she my Doolia.” Des trotted over to plant a kiss on his mother’s cheek before leading me to the toy box.
We played trains until Choo Choo woke up, at which point we had to watch her chase her tail and pursue the toy Des dragged in front of her. He giggled as the ball of fluff somersaulted head over rump and then landed on all fours, looking around wildly as though on the hunt.
“That reminds me.” I ruffled Desmond’s hair. “I need to put on the chicken for your dinner. Want to help me cook?”
“Yes!” He scrambled up and over the table, where he dragged a chair to the counter and climbed up.
“First you need to find me a pot for the chicken. Get me one this big.” I held out hands in a decent approximation of a stock pot.
“Okay dokey.” He stepped down with care and opened up the cabinet. I saw his little face wrinkle in concentration as he looked at all the choice
s offered.
While he worked on that, I retrieved an onion and carrot from the crisper and washed them, taking the outer peel from the onion. I gave each a rough chop just as Des returned.
“Like this?” He presented me with a wok pan.
“Oh, buddy, that one won’t work. I know it’s the right size around, but I need a pot. Something deeper. C’mere, I’ll show you.” I took him over and retrieved the silver stock pot. Desmond nodded, a serious look on his sweet face.
He watched as I dumped the chicken into the pot, added the carrot and onion and then covered the whole thing with water.
“And one tablespoon of apple cider vinegar, to bring out the flavor.” I measured it into the mixture.
“Can I smell?”
“Sure.” Whenever I cooked with Des, I liked to encourage him to smell, touch and taste. He leaned over the large bottle and took a whiff.
“Eww.” His nose wrinkled. “That smell yukky.”
“You’re not wrong, but mixed in with our other ingredients, you won’t even know it’s there. Okay, onto the stove goes our bird.” I hefted the pot over a burner and turned it on low.
I caught Des yawning as I washed my hands.
“I think it’s nap time, baby boy. Want to go read some books?”
“I not a baby.” He rubbed at his eyes with one fist, while his lip stuck out.
“Oh, right. Big boy. Still, it’s time. Run up and go potty, and I’ll meet you on your bed with your books.”
We hadn’t even gotten through half of the first book before he was snoring. I tucked his favorite airplane blanket around his shoulders and pulled the door shut.
Slipping downstairs, I checked for the kitten before I sank onto the sofa. She was under the coffee table, her little rump wiggling as she prepared to attack my feet. When she leaped, I scooped her up and snuggled the little furball against my chest.
“It’s nap time, kitty.” I curled my legs beneath me and lay my head on the arm of the couch. “Don’t you want to rest?”
Apparently she did, because she began to purr as she nuzzled my hand. My eyes slid shut, and I drifted to sleep.
It was only moments later, I was sure, when I felt the brush of lips over my cheek. I batted it away, and the kitten mewed in protest as I shifted.
“Didn’t I tell you what happens when I find you all sleepy and warm?” The words were low and intimate, followed up with soft kisses down my neck. I breathed deep and recognized Jesse’s scent.
“Mmmm.” I kept my eyes closed. “You smell good. But be careful. The guy I’m seeing lives here, and he might not like it if he catches us together like this.”
He paused for just a minute, and I snuck a look at his face through my eyelashes. I wasn’t sure if I’d gone too far. I was seeing him, after all; we’d been together the night before and had another date this weekend. Still, neither of us had said anything about being exclusive, unless I counted our first date, when Jesse had asked if I were seeing anyone else.
To my relief, he was grinning, and those dimples were in full view. He plunged his hands to my ribs and tickled.
“Oh, really? The guy you’re seeing, huh?”
I sucked in a breath and tried to push his hands away. “No tickling! All right, all right. But stop. You’re upsetting Choo Choo.”
As if in response, she stood on my chest, arched her back and stretched, glaring at Jesse.
“Choo Choo? Is that what Desmond named him?”
“Her, actually, and yes. Did you know he was getting a kitten?”
“Yeah, Sarah told me before they left yesterday. She’s cute.” He picked her up with one hand and rubbed his face against her soft fur, much as Des had done earlier.
When the kitten began to squirm, he set her down on the floor, and she stalked off toward the kitchen. Jesse turned his attention back to me.
“You are way too tempting, lying here like this.” He was still wearing his coat, and I could feel the chilled air coming off it.
“You’re cold.” I found one of his hands and rubbed it between both of mine.
“I am.” He leaned over me, bringing his face very close to mine. “I think you should warm me up.
Without warning, he pulled his fingers away and stuck both of his hands under my shirt, against my warm skin.
“Oh, my God.” I hissed the words, careful to keep my voice down so we didn’t wake Des. “What are you doing? Your hands are like ice!”
“But you’re toasty. Sharing body warmth is a good thing.” He smiled lazily into my eyes and began moving his hands around, from my sides to my stomach. I sucked in my muscles there, trying to avoid the cold. That only encouraged him to move higher, to the edge of my bra. As his fingers teased there, he brought his mouth down to cover mine.
Jesse kissed with abandon, always. I smiled against his lips even as he coaxed mine open and sought my tongue with his. I brought up my hands to the back of his neck, and then changed my mind and found the hem of his shirt.
Beneath the gray thermal, he was all muscles and planes, and I traced my fingers upward, with slow precision. I knew he liked my touch, as his lips moved even more aggressively over a low groan.
He shifted to kiss down my neck, pausing as always at the hollow where my clavicle formed a perfect U. As his tongue circled the pulse there, he slipped his fingers beneath the band of my bra, teasing and tempting until my breasts filled his hands.
“Jesse.” I could hear the want in my own voice. “Jesse, Des is upstairs asleep. And your dad could come home any minute.”
He groaned again and dropped his head onto my chest. His hands were still trapped within my bra, and he moved one thumb just close enough to graze a nipple. I arched back. The last thing I wanted to do was push him away—or stop, for that matter—but I knew we had to be aware of where we were. I didn’t want to lose my job or put Jesse in an awkward position with his dad and Sarah.
“I really don’t want to move.” His voice was muffled against me. “You know how I said I wanted to ‘um, date’ you the first time I saw you here? I feel the same way right now.”
I fingered his curls, smiling at the silkiness. “Yeah, me, too. But we need to be smart, right? If your dad came in right now—”
“I know.” Jesse slid his hands out from under my shirt and pushed up. “Okay.” He took a deep breath, and I giggled when I saw his nose twitch. I knew what was coming next.
“Mmmm, what smells so good?”
I swung my legs around to sit up next to him. “That’s your dinner. I’m making chicken and dumplings for you guys. Matter of fact, I better go get started on the dumplings before it gets any later.”
He followed me into the kitchen, hanging his jacket on the coat tree and then leaning against the counter as I lifted the lid from the steaming pot. I breathed in the aroma with my eyes closed.
“Yum. This just needs about another half hour.” I turned around. Jesse was looking at me with an odd expression on his face.
“What? Is my hair sticking up?”
“You know when I tell you all the time that you’re pretty?”
“Yeah.” I tilted my head, waiting to hear what he was getting at. Every time he left, or I left, or we were on the phone or texting, he ended our conversation with those same words.
“I was wrong. You’re not just pretty. You’re beautiful.”
I stood still for a full silent moment, unable to say a word over the tightness in my throat. I didn’t have any illusions about my looks—I was ordinary on my good days—but the way Jesse looked at me, I felt gorgeous.
I smiled at him, darting just close enough to drop a quick kiss on his cheek and move out of reach. “Thank you.”
“Come back here and thank me better.”
Laughing, I pulled down the flour. “Ah, no. While I am most appreciative, I stand by my no-making-out-in-your-parents’-house rule. Sorry.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He stuck his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. I me
asured flour into a large glass bowl, added the water and mixed them up.
“What are you making now?”
“The dumplings.” I sprinkled flour onto the wooden cutting board and turned the ball of dough out. “In the drawer behind you, there’s a rolling pin. Can you hand it to me?”
“Now that one I know.” Jesse rummaged in the drawer and produced the simple pin. “Voila.”
“Excellent.” I concentrated on moving the pin evenly across the board. “I make rolled dumplings, but some people prefer the dropped. They’re a little easier, but I don’t think they taste as good.” I rinsed off my hands, found a knife and began cutting the sheet of dough into rectangles.
“What time do you get off work?”
I glanced at Jesse over my shoulder. “Um, usually about five, or whenever Danny gets home. Why?”
“Stay for dinner with us.”
I turned around, drying my hands on a paper towel. “I don’t know, Jesse. Sarah and your dad might not like that. You know…I’m their employee.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you work for them. That doesn’t mean you can’t eat with us. It’s not like a serfdom or whatever. You’re not the hired help. And you wouldn’t be eating with us as the nanny. You’d be here as my girlfriend.”
I stopped moving again, my butt up against the counter opposite Jesse. “I’m your girlfriend?”
“Aren’t you? I mean, we’re dating, right?”
“We’re dating, yes. We’re just not ‘um, dating’.”
“I’ll never live that down, will I?”
“Probably not.” I slid the chicken pot off the burner and began straining the stock.
“Well, anyway. I want you to eat with us. You’re making dinner, you should be able to eat it, too. If you don’t stay, I probably won’t be able to see you again until Sunday, at the Super Bowl party.”
My stomach dropped a little. I had hoped we might be able to hang out this week, even though I knew we both were busy with classes. With Liam, it had been unusual for us to go more than a day or two without seeing each other, either at a meal or between classes. Which gave me a twinge, remembering his accusation at the birthday party that I should have realized something was up when we went so long without communicating.
Best Served Cold (Perfect Dish Romances Book 1) Page 14