by Dori Lavelle
Twenty minutes later, she exited the building with a folder and a large grin. "I'm starting next week," she told Brian as she fastened her seatbelt.
Brian squeezed her hand. "Already? That's grand."
If only Brian knew how incredibly fantastic it was. For Kelsey, it was more than she could ever have wished for. She was lucky; the class starting next week had been full, but they had managed to fit her in. The course would not turn her into a world-renowned chef, but she'd at least learn the basics. It was one step down the road from dream to reality.
***
Five days after Brian drove Kelsey to The Cooking Academy, her kitchen faucet had started dripping. Brian had fixed it immediately, but two days ago, it started again. Not wanting to disturb him again, she'd placed a bowl under it and did her best to ignore the annoying sound. She’d tried fixing it herself, stuffing a ball of cotton in the nozzle, and turning up the volume of the TV, but nothing worked.
Today she gave in and called Brian again. He promised to send someone over before the end of the day.
Around eight o'clock in the evening, Kelsey gave up the wait and lounged on the sofa watching TV—at a high-enough volume to muffle the dripping sound from the kitchen. Maybe Brian couldn't find someone at such late notice. It didn't matter. She could deal with a dripping faucet for one more night, no matter how much the sound was grating on her nerves.
The doorbell rang ten minutes later and Kelsey was surprised to find Shaun standing there. He wore scuffed jeans and a black pullover, and carried a toolbox.
Her heart turned over. "Shaun, what are you doing here?"
"I'm the handyman. Brian told me you have a dripping faucet on your hands?"
There was a tingling in Kelsey's stomach as she tried to resist returning his captivating smile.
For the past two weeks, they'd managed to just be neighbors. When they bumped into each other, they said hello and went their separate ways. No one had invited the other for a drink or dinner or anything else. She'd filled her days with walks on the beach, long naps, dinners at the Soup and More restaurant across the street or at Brian and Sarah's, and watching cooking shows on TV.
But she did need help with the faucet. If Shaun was the man to fix it, so be it. She'd let him, and then they'd go back to being neighbors.
"Thanks. Please come in."
Shaun nodded and walked past her into the sitting room, leaving behind a trail of intoxicating cologne. "How have you been? It's been a while."
"I've been great." Kelsey led the way to the kitchen. "Nothing to complain about. Except the faucet, of course."
Standing in the kitchen with him, Kelsey felt suddenly awkward. The room was too small and she didn't know what to do with her hands. Offering him something to drink would be good—but she found she couldn't move, and so she just stood there staring at him.
Under the sink, Shaun turned off the water supply. When he loosened the plastic cover on the top of the faucet with a flathead screwdriver, his biceps contracted and relaxed, and Kelsey couldn't stop staring. She felt an urge to run the palm of her hand along his stubble. Then suddenly the memory of him kissing her at the market flooded her mind. Goose bumps popped up on her skin.
Great. Now she would be fantasizing about him again for the next few days.
She had to get out of the kitchen before he turned around to find her gawking. "If... if you need me, I'll be in... I'll be in—"
"Thanks. I'm almost done." His voice held no emotion whatsoever.
Finding refuge in the dining room, Kelsey pulled out a chair and dropped her head into her hands. She didn't want it to be true, but she had missed him. Even more frightening, her foolish heart was falling hard for him.
When Shaun was done, Kelsey finally managed to offer him coffee as a way to thank him and also poured a cup for herself. She wasn't normally a coffee drinker, but felt she needed some.
As she sipped, she hoped Shaun would drink up and leave. The longer he stayed, the more uncomfortable she became. She could no longer relax in his presence, as though they had crossed some invisible line and there was no going back to being simply friends.
Shaun didn't look like he was in a hurry to leave. Instead, he followed her into the sitting room and sat down next to her on the sofa. Kelsey kept her eyes glued to the blank TV screen.
Shaun put his cup down. "Kelsey, is something wrong?"
She turned to him, fingers wrapped too tightly around the cup handle. "No. Why do you say that?"
"In the last couple of days you've been avoiding me. Did I provoke you in any way? The other night... If I overstepped some boundaries, I apologize."
Kelsey shook her head, but her eyes locked with his for a long time. And then, like two poles of a magnet, their heads moved closer. So close she could feel his warm breath on her face and then the touch of his lips on hers. The blood rushed to her head and her temperature rose.
As quickly as they had met, their lips parted; Kelsey came to her senses and pulled away. "You should leave." If he stayed she was certain she wouldn't be able to control herself.
Shaun got to his feet. "Okay." There was no expression on his face. Then he gave her a half smile. "By the way, I heard you found a cooking school. Good for you."
Then he walked out the door.
Kelsey closed the door behind him and sat back on the sofa, her heart racing.
Shaun Brannon made her heart swell. She wanted him, she wanted him so bad, but there were too many issues. The issue of her getting attached, for one. And what about all of his secrets? She hardly knew anything about him, and she just couldn't risk him turning into another Craig.
Chapter Eleven
The branches outside Kelsey's kitchen trembled in the wind and gentle raindrops tap-danced on the windowpane.
As if on cue, Shaun approached his own kitchen window, a mug in his hand, staring straight in her direction as she sat at the table.
To lighten the awkward moment, Kelsey forced a smile and waved before turning away as casually as she could manage. She didn't wait long enough to see if he waved back. Then she grabbed her house keys, a light coat, and one of the large umbrellas hanging by the door.
The ten-minute walk in the rain refreshed her. It didn't help clear her mind, exactly, but it did keep her from sitting nervously at home and thinking about Shaun.
As she approached her street again, she decided she wasn't ready to return home just yet, and walked to Maeve's place instead.
Kelsey liked Maeve a lot and they'd spent a good deal of time together. Maeve reminded her not to take life too seriously and enjoy each day as it came. But even though she had Maeve's address, she had never visited her at home before. They always met at Brian and Sarah's, at Kelsey's, or in town.
When Kelsey arrived at Maeve's cottage, she knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She tried again. Still nothing. She turned to leave, but at that moment the door swung open.
"Look who's here," Maeve said, her scarlet lips breaking into a smile. She wore a dressing gown and looked like she had been in the process of doing her makeup. The only thing she'd managed to finish entirely was her lips. Half of her hair was straightened and silky, and the other looked like a perm gone wrong. One of her eyelids was swathed in a smoky gray and the other was as creamy as her cheek. She opened the door wide for Kelsey to enter.
The heavy scent of flowery perfume and hairspray almost knocked Kelsey out. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to disturb you. Are you getting ready to go out?"
Maeve skidded through the living room to what Kelsey assumed to be the bathroom. "I'm going out on a date, but I'm here long enough for a chat. I always have time for that."
Kelsey wasn't sure whether she should join Maeve in the bathroom or stay where she was. After a moment of standing awkwardly, she lowered herself onto a pale pink leather sofa.
She'd never seen a place more suited to its owner. The sofa perfectly matched the walls, and framed photos of Maeve flaunting different hairstyles ad
orned them. There were a number of brightly colored pieces of clothing hanging on chairs and the TV, and issues of Lady Style magazines were spread out on the glass coffee table as well as on the carpeted floor. Kelsey bent down and picked one up. She skimmed the glossy cover and raised an eyebrow at the date. The magazine was two years old.
"Are you coming?" Maeve chirped from the bathroom.
Kelsey placed the magazine back where she'd found it and stood up. "Okay."
In the bathroom, she perched on the lip of the bathtub and watched Maeve apply her makeup.
Maeve swept the mascara wand along her eyelashes, her mouth slightly open. "So, what's on your mind?"
"I've nothing on my mind." Kelsey shifted. "What makes you think that?"
Maeve screwed the cap back onto the mascara tube and picked up the eyeshadow brush to get to work on the other eyelid. "It's written all over your face. Spit it out."
Kelsey stood up and turned to sniff the potpourri bowl on the windowsill, debating whether to tell Maeve about Shaun. Dreara was a small town. If Maeve ended up telling just one person, the whole town would know by nightfall.
"How's the sexy neighbor? I know there's something going on between you two."
Kelsey whipped around too fast and an unwelcome blush crept into her cheeks. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Well, I tried not to bring this up and hoped you'd tell me yourself, but everyone is talking. Apparently you were seen at the farmer's market a while back, exploring each other's mouths. You go girl." Maeve winked at her in the mirror.
The tips of Kelsey's ears prickled with heat and she avoided Maeve's eyes. "Well, I... we did kiss, but nothing more happened after that."
"I don't understand what you're waiting for. If I were you and my lips locked with his, I'd have humped him right there on a sack of potatoes." Maeve placed a tissue between her lips and pressed them onto it. Then she squinted as if she'd just realized something. "Kelsey O'Neil, you like him, don't you? You want all of him... and not just his dick."
"Wow, the words that come out of your mouth are shocking sometimes." Kelsey laughed and sat back down on the tub.
"So, is it true?"
"I do like him."
"Bullshit. You're completely in love with this guy. Your eyes say it all. What's stopping you from giving it a try with him?" Maeve raised an eyebrow.
"He's so secretive about his life and I can't go through that with another man. I don't want any surprises down the road."
"If you show him you have the hots for him, he might open up to you. He seems to like you enough, or he wouldn't have kissed you in front of the whole of Dreara."
"Maybe." Kelsey twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. "But there's also the problem of him not being a one-woman man. I'm not into sharing."
"Sorry, girl," Maeve said. "I can't help you with that one. All I can say is, you'll continue to ask these questions as long as you don't give it a shot. I say take what you can get. You never know."
Kelsey pursed her lips and sighed. "Maybe you're right."
Chapter Twelve
A mixture of fear and excitement had kept Kelsey up all night. Today was the first day of her cooking course.
The class wasn't starting until eight in the morning, but Kelsey pulled up in front of the red brick building at seven. She tried to pull herself together in the car. The beginning of anything was always nerve-wracking, but once she started, she usually discovered the other side wasn't so scary after all.
Fifteen minutes before eight, Kelsey told herself there was nothing to be afraid of. She was about to do something she should have done a long time ago. She reached for her backpack, which held her chef's knife, oven gloves, and the two cookbooks she had been asked to bring along.
Just as she was about to step out of the car, she spotted Clara, the waitress who had served her and Maeve at Conaire's Corner.
Kelsey's confidence dwindled. Bumping into someone who had seen her at her worst didn't do much to build her up.
Clara was getting closer now, so Kelsey ducked back into the car and closed the door. She dug into her handbag, pretending to be searching for something. Hopefully Clara would walk by without noticing her. Maybe she wouldn't even remember her.
When she was sure enough time had passed, she got out of the car—then froze. Clara was standing in front of the building Kelsey was about to enter, gazing in her direction. And she definitely recognized her, because she waved. Kelsey had no choice but to wave back and walk toward her, feeling like a child found with her hand in the cookie jar.
"I remember you," Clara said. "I saw you at Conaire's."
Kelsey smiled and nodded. "I'm sure you do. I think I got a bit drunk."
Clara laughed and nodded her head. "Yes, you did. You did a little dancing too."
"I did?" Kelsey's eyes widened. "I don't remember." Maybe that was a good thing. She was a horrible dancer.
"Don't worry. Already forgotten. If it makes you feel better, I've seen so much worse."
It turned out Clara was taking the same cooking course. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to attend the course with someone who'd already seen her make a fool of herself, Kelsey thought. Just in case she didn't get it right her first time in the kitchen.
Apart from a long table topped with two large boxes, a couple of chairs, a blackboard, and pictures of various dishes hanging from the walls, there wasn't much else in the classroom.
Kelsey and Clara were first to take their seats, and the others joined them in spurts.
A man with thin hair and a thick beard walked up to the front of the class. "Welcome, everyone. I'm Frank. It's great to see you all here today." He stroked his beard. "Let's start with introductions, for the faces I don't recognize."
After the short round of introductions, Frank pointed to the boxes on the table. "In there you'll find your chef's jacket, pants, and shoes, in the sizes you specified on the signup form. Please take what belongs to you and let's get started."
When everyone had found their clothes, Frank, who had been standing by the door as everyone rummaged through the boxes, sat down at the head of the table, facing them. "All right, everyone, let's begin. During this course, I'm going to pass on to you some of the most important things I learned while training to be a chef years ago. At some point during the course, some of you may find this is not for you, and decide to leave. That's fine. Those of you who are in this for the long haul, be prepared for an intensive six months."
After talking through the necessary utensils—chef's knife, bread knife, paring knife, pots, pans, hand mixer, peeler, measuring utensils, can opener, cutting board—Frank moved on.
"As with any profession, being a chef requires a number of imperative skills—timing, multitasking, taste, speed, and the will to learn. In the first few weeks we'll study these individually. I'll also teach you some cooking techniques—sautéing, stewing, and braising." Frank's animated eyes took in each student seated in front of him. "Once you learn these techniques, you will be able to handle most recipes. I know you'd prefer to go straight into the kitchen right now, but theory is just as important as practice. For that reason, today, you will not be doing any cooking."
***
When Kelsey arrived at her cottage, she found Shaun sitting on her doorstep. He stood up when she approached. "We need to talk," he said, pushing his hands into his pockets. He shook his head. "No, for some reason I don't think you want to talk to me, so I'll just say what I came to say and leave."
A knot formed inside Kelsey's stomach. "Okay. Do you want to come in?"
"No, I'm fine." Shaun leaned against the wall. "I guess my actions and our conversations have somehow rubbed you the wrong way. I didn't mean to be disrespectful to you or to other women. I'm an honest person by nature." He sucked in a breath. "So, I'm going to be honest. I like you. And I've wanted to make love to you from the first day I saw you."
Kelsey's eyes flew to his. "You—"
"Wanted to make love to
you. I got the vibe you wanted it too, but you're all hot and cold. I can't quite read you. One thing I know for sure is that there's something here." He pulled a hand out of his pocket and waved it in the space between them. "I know it, and you know it."
Kelsey licked her lips and tried to say something, but the words stuck inside her throat. She leaned against the wall as well, so her knees wouldn't give way. She breathed in and out and then finally spoke, "what do you want me to do about that, Shaun? I don't understand."
"Nothing you don't want." Shaun pushed away from the wall and came to stand over her, hands on both sides of her body. He moved his mouth close to her ear. "I'm going away for a while. I have research to do in some other cities in Ireland. I'll be back by Christmas. Make your mind up by then. Decide whether you want me to be your Christmas present." He moved his lips from her ear to her lips and gave her a swift kiss that was just powerful enough to knock the strength from her knees. Then he moved away and walked out of the gate, whistling a tune.
Fifteen minutes later, Kelsey saw him load his truck with some bags, and then he drove off, leaving her with a big decision to make.
***
Natural light flooded The Academy kitchen, making the workstations glint. There were large sinks on either side of the room, one for fruits and vegetables and the other for meat products.
Racks held rows and rows of gleaming pots and pans that stood at the ready like soldiers awaiting battle. Kelsey smiled and breathed in the air of the kitchen—clean, fresh, and expectant, with a hint of lemon detergent. Frank never stopped telling them how important a clean kitchen was to a chef, and they were to clean as they worked.
He stood at the front and chopped, stirred, seasoned, and deglazed. In twenty minutes he had prepared sautéed chicken breasts with summer vegetables. He made it look so easy.
After the demonstration there was a short break, and then it was time for the practical class. Kelsey returned to the kitchen wrapped in a silken cloak of euphoria.