I tried to will myself to sleep as the minutes and hours passed, but no matter what I tried, his face was the only thing I saw when I closed my eyes.
Chapter Five
Jamie
As I double-checked the address Claire had given me, I stared at the converted warehouse-style apartment building near Pike Place Market wondering if I was making a massive mistake. What kind of loser invites himself over to his lab partner’s apartment in an attempt to hook up with her hot brother?
I found a parking space down a side street and parked my car between a beat-up VW Bug and a new Lexus. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I tried to psyche myself up to talk to him. “Oh hey, Ethan. We have nothing in common but I thought I’d use your sister as an excuse to talk to you.” Lame. I sighed and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and closed my eyes. “Hi, Ethan, it’s Jamie. You know, the dude who stares at you like you’re a perfectly seasoned rib eye steak and I’m starving.” Yeah, that wasn’t trying too hard at all.
I grabbed the bottle of wine I’d picked up and headed down the street to Ethan and Claire’s apartment, hoping I could keep it together and not come off as trying too hard. I had doubts about bringing the wine, but my parents had trained me to not show up without something in my hands. Beer would have been more appropriate, but everybody liked wine and this was a good winery and a good year. Maybe I could at least impress Ethan with my wine knowledge if anything.
When I entered the building, I saw two options for getting up to their fifth-floor apartment—the rickety old service elevator or a set of narrow stairs off the main entryway. I didn’t trust the elevator, so I chose the five flights, telling myself my sweaty palms were from the exercise and not because I’d be in Ethan Martin’s apartment.
By the time I knocked on their door, I’d convinced myself I should have brought beer instead of the wine and this entire plan was ridiculous. I debated whether to turn around and walk away. I could call on my way home with some excuse about not being able to make it. As I thought up possible excuses, the door opened and I was suddenly face-to-face with Ethan.
He rested his hand on the doorjamb and slowly looked me up and down. My cock twitched. God, I hoped he hadn’t seen that. I felt my face flush under his scrutiny. I suddenly doubted my choice of khakis and dark green button-down shirt. Should I have worn jeans and a T-shirt like Ethan was wearing? Did his faded and ripped jeans have to sit so low on his hips?
He finally met my eyes with a smirk and called over his shoulder, “Claire, Golden Boy’s here!”
I groaned under my breath. Great. Golden Boy. I couldn’t be James or Jamie, like Claire called me. Or even Lassiter. Nope. Golden Boy. Dinner with my parents was looking better and better already. Even with an embarrassing blind date set up. Within five seconds of arrival I’d been judged, found lacking, labeled with a nickname.
I was about to attempt some kind of witty comeback when a small hand shot out and smacked Ethan on the back of the head.
“Shit, Claire! I need to teach you how to hit like a girl! That shit hurt.”
“You’re the one who taught me how to punch in the first place, E, so shut it.” Claire neatly dodged his return smack and smiled brightly at me as she pushed her brother out of the doorway.
“Jamie! I guess my directions didn’t suck too badly. Come in. Don’t mind my brother. He’s a part-time asshole. He’ll be nicer once he has a few beers in him.”
I laughed at her ease of handling Ethan but hesitated at the threshold of the doorway. “The directions were great. I even found a parking place not too far away.”
“You must have ninja parking skills because there never seems to be a space open when we need one. I’m glad you’re here. We should have done this a long time ago.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me inside the apartment. The place was quirky and decorated with mismatched furniture and what looked like thrift store art. Unlike my own expensive but soulless condo which overlooked the sound, this place looked lived in and comfortable.
Ethan walked over to their kitchen and turned his back on us. I heard the sound of something crackling in a pan and took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious aroma of what smelled like maple syrup and spices. He had his back to us, but I could tell he was listening. Claire laughed about something Boulanger had said during our last lesson, but I paused, not having caught the last thing she’d said.
I had wanted to be in this situation for weeks and now I couldn’t think of what to say. Luckily I had a built-in conversation saver. I held out the bottle of wine to Claire, who smiled and pulled me into the kitchen.
“You brought wine. You didn’t have to, Jamie.”
“I know you said you had beer in the fridge, but I didn’t want to come empty-handed. My parents seem to think this is a particularly good wine. If we end up not drinking it tonight, consider it a thank-you for letting me hang out with you tonight. It’s been a while since I took a break and just relaxed.”
Ethan turned his head and looked over Claire’s shoulder. He peered at the label on the bottle of wine and whistled. “Domaine Drouhin Oregon Laurène Pinot Noir, 1999. Sure you want to share the good stuff with us lowly kitchen jockeys, Lassiter?”
I felt my cheeks flush deeper with color but smiled and forced out a laugh. Why did I have to be attracted to snarky, smart-ass chefs with eyebrow piercings? This guy was a total jerk but I was still here trying not to fantasize about how amazing he’d be in bed. “I’m going on my parents’ recommendation, Martin. It could be swill for all I know. How about I trade the wine for a beer and we’ll call it even. Sound good?”
He opened his mouth to make some sort of comeback, but when Claire shot him a glare he closed it and turned his attention back to the range. She made her way into the kitchen, setting the bottle of wine down on the counter. She opened cabinets to pull down some glasses and gestured for me to take a seat.
“It’s perfect, Jamie. Thanks for bringing it over. Do you want a glass now or were you serious in wanting to brave the shit my brother swears passes for beer around here?”
He flipped her off as she went about setting out plates and utensils on their small wooden breakfast table. I laughed when she threw a dish towel at him, which he neatly dodged as he flipped her off again.
“I’m slaving away making dinner here and all you can do is insult my beer? You wound me, Claire.”
“Shut it, E, and make us something fabulous to eat before we have to settle in to work.” Claire smiled at him affectionately and for a moment I envied their close relationship. Growing up an only child, I’d missed out on having a built-in partner in crime.
Ethan smirked and leaned down to open the oven door. He placed a cover over the larger of the two skillets, lifted it off the range and slid it into the oven. Once the oven door was closed, he pulled a saucepan closer to the front of the range, lifted its lid and stirred whatever was in it. Without missing a beat, he drizzled olive oil over sliced zucchini and squash in a sauté pan. “I’ll have you know my beer will most likely end up kicking your wine’s ass tonight. Sorry you won’t be sharing any with me, Claire.”
“Whatever.” She turned to me and smiled. “Jamie, beer or wine?”
“I’m in the mood for something different. What kind of swill do you have that passes for beer?”
Ethan passed off his spatula to Claire. “Make yourself useful and don’t let my perfectly seasoned squash burn. The grits should be fine on their own for a few more minutes while I take care of the finer beverage choices for the evening.”
Claire huffed, but took the spatula and began tossing the vegetables around while Ethan adjusted the flame underneath the pan. Their ease in the kitchen together was incredible to watch. Gone was the tension Ethan usually carried with him during our pastry class. Instead, he was relaxed and in charge as he and Claire worked as a team; he was the Ethan
everyone had envied and admired in all of our cooking rotations. He could handle everything that came his way. Everything except baking.
When Ethan opened the fridge door and bent down to rummage around, my eyes went straight to his ass. When I looked farther down, I noticed he was barefoot too. How could anyone possibly make going barefoot sexy? I stole a glance at my own outfit and exhaled in relief. Thank God I’d decided to go somewhat casual tonight. I’d left my usually tucked-in button-down untucked, but I still felt self-conscious. Ethan, on the other hand, was totally at ease. When he reached in to grab the beer, his T-shirt rode up, showing the curve of his spine and lean muscle of his back. His low-slung jeans shifted even lower, revealing how taut his body was under his usually baggy chef’s clothes he wore at school. Two perfect dimples showed right above his ass and I knew they would fit my thumbs perfectly.
When he straightened and held out two different beers for me to choose from, I laughed when I saw my choices.
“I had the Kilt Lifter last night, and Pike’s IPA is probably one of my favorites.” I turned toward Claire and winked. “The wine’s all yours, Claire.”
Claire made a little whoop of celebration as if she’d won the lottery instead of an entire bottle of wine to herself. Ethan raised his eyebrows. Maybe he was deciding I wasn’t an uptight asshole.
He handed me my beer and turned to take over the sautéing. “So, Lassiter, what brings you to our side of town? Did you decide to change things up and mingle with the masses today?”
Okay, maybe not.
I chuckled when Claire glared at her brother. I twisted the cap off my beer, taking a deep swig before answering. “If by mingle with the masses, you mean hang out with Claire? We golden boys can’t live on champagne and caviar alone while we drive around in our Bentleys.”
Ethan choked on his beer for a minute, looked me right in the eye and laughed. At my joke. In the three years we’d been in classes together, this was the first time I’d seen him laugh. Maybe this meant there was a chance, a small chance, he might be able to look past the fact I had a famous dad who peddled chicken fingers in chain restaurants with tacky tchotchkes plastered on the walls and see me.
Claire leaned closer to her brother “Behave, Ethan. Now. You may be my brother but I have no qualms about making you sing falsetto.”
He held up his hands in surrender and moved the sauté pan to the back of the range. After donning oven mitts, he pulled the larger skillet back out. Claire handed him a bowl of shredded cheese, which he carefully added to the saucepan, slowly stirring with the complete focus only a true chef has when preparing a meal he’s proud of. Every movement was confident. I turned my attention to Claire in an attempt to cover up my pathetic need to get to know her brother better.
“Can I give you a hand with anything? I wish I’d brought more than the wine. I didn’t know you were making dinner. I thought we were just going to do snacks and run through some techniques tonight.”
Claire rolled her eyes in Ethan’s direction. “Ethan got a bug up his ass and decided he had to make the pork chops tonight. But hey, a night off cooking duty is bonus, right? Even if he does think he’s sweet-talking me into doing the dishes later.”
Ethan smirked as he began to plate our food, carefully arranging the sizzling pork chops over the cheese grits. The vegetables and onions were caramelized to a perfect golden brown and set off the other two dishes with a perfect hint of color.
I stood there, motionless and staring at my plate like an idiot for a few seconds, until Claire nudged me and I joined her at the table. Ethan joined us and if his self-satisfied smirk told me anything, the meal was going to be delicious.
I almost laughed when Claire gave a satisfied moan around a mouthful of food. “Damn, E. If you weren’t my brother, I’d kiss you right now. What in the hell did you do to the pork chops this time? I swear it’s even better than the last time.”
Ethan chuckled and clinked his beer to her wineglass. “Thanks, Clairebear. I added a little Dijon mustard to the maple syrup mixture this time. I think it brought out the flavors a bit more, but I still want to tweak the sauce. I’m pretty sure it’s still missing something.”
Taking the cue to eat, I cut into my own pork chop and took a bite. The hearty flavor of the chop melded perfectly with the subtle sweetness of the maple sauce. I closed my eyes and against my will echoed Claire’s sound of pleasure. I was instantly mortified when I heard a soft chuckle from across the table. I opened my eyes to find Ethan’s deep green eyes watching me.
“Enjoying my meat, Golden Boy?”
“Who wouldn’t?” I blurted out. Oh shit. Could I be any more obvious?
When a satisfied smirk spread across his face, Claire glanced between us curiously, her eyes narrowing.
“The pork chop is excellent, Ethan. And I have no clue what you did to the grits, but they go perfectly with the chop and vegetables. Where’d you get the recipe?”
Claire laughed and bumped Ethan with her elbow. “E doesn’t believe in recipes. We’ll see something on TV or taste something when we go out, and the second we get home he’s already in the kitchen trying to pick it apart to make it better. He’s always been that way. It’s probably one of the reasons you majorly suck at baking, E.”
Ethan growled and stabbed his pork chop with his fork. “Yeah, well, not all of us like measuring and precision shit. Some of us like to be creative and intuitive.”
Claire bumped him with her elbow again and we spent the next few minutes in silence while we ate our dinner. I asked Claire about her job at the restaurant and made small talk, but Ethan remained withdrawn until we had cleared our plates and set them in the sink.
“So, Claire. What did you feel like working on tonight?”
“The soufflé for this week’s class would be a great starting point.” She sent me a small smile. “I’m worried mine will deflate. Plus the wine you brought will be awesome with it.”
I chanced a glance at Ethan, who raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
Had Claire not warned him about why I was coming over tonight?
“The sooner we get this down, the sooner we can kick asses in the baking part of the competition.” She pulled out the beat-up stand mixer from the cabinet and set it on the counter next to a glass bowl and pot. Ethan looked from the mixer to Claire to me. He had no clue why I was there and he didn’t look too happy about it.
Chapter Six
Ethan
“It’s your night off work and you’re going to spend it making a soufflé?”
What kind of first date involved making soufflés? When Lassiter unbuttoned the sleeves of his green shirt, my eyes widened. When he rolled them over his forearms, revealing pale skin and defined muscles, I quietly groaned and shifted behind the countertop. Before tonight, Lassiter had been the guy I had lusted after in one of my classes. But over the course of dinner, I had gotten a chance to see he wasn’t the spoiled brat I’d thought he was, had a good sense of humor and wasn’t some mindless J. Crew wannabe. I wasn’t interested in dating the guy, but my body was definitely reacting to him. All of this begged the question: What offense against karma had I committed in a past life? Why did I have to have the shitty luck to be attracted to the one guy who was interested in my sister?
Claire scooted me out of the way to get to the refrigerator. “No, we’re going to make the best chocolate soufflés ever, big brother. All three of us, together. That’s why I got some of these babies.” She ducked back down and disappeared behind the open fridge door. When she stood back up she held a bowl of strawberries.
No. Fucking. Way. If some kind of dirty foreplay with dessert and strawberries was about to go down, I was done. Out. Gone. Finito. I loved my sister but I wanted to be able to look at her without wanting to gouge my eyes out.
“Yeah, no. I think I’ll leave yo
u two to your romantic night—”
“Who said anything about romance?” Lassiter sounded amused as he took another drink of his beer. “We have to be able to make classic desserts for the second round of the competition. Come on, Martin. You’re not afraid of a few berries, are you?” He plucked a strawberry from the bowl as I watched, mesmerized as he lifted it to his lips. He took a healthy bite and the berry juice stained his full bottom lip. As his tongue swiped the juice away, I let out a strangled moan.
“You okay, E?” Claire’s eyebrows rose in concern.
“What? Oh, yeah. I pinched myself in the cabinet.” The pinching part was correct, but it sure as hell wasn’t in the cabinet. More like in my jeans, which were now suddenly too tight. I discreetly adjusted myself and watched as she and Golden Boy got to work.
She handed him a piece of paper with a recipe on it. He read over her shoulder as she grabbed the jar of Nutella sitting on the counter. My eyes narrowed as I saw how he invaded her personal space.
She was too distracted to notice the way I watched her and Jamie as she went to work getting the rest of the ingredients set up. I let out an oomph when she thrust two sauce pots at my stomach. “E? Can you prep the double boiler and measure out the Nutella and cream? Jamie and I will get the ramekins ready.”
I took the double boiler from Claire, added water to the bottom pot and turned on the burner as she and Jamie started wrapping the parchment around the small ramekins.
“See? It’s pretty easy. All you have to do is melt the Nutella mixture until it’s smooth, remove it from the heat and add the egg yolks while I whip the egg whites until they’re stiff. Once Jamie’s done with the ramekins we can fold all the ingredients together to make our soufflés. And voilà! Homemade Nutella soufflés.” Any other time I would have made a stiff joke but at the moment I was disgusted when she looked at Jamie and giggled. I felt my soul die a little more.
In the Raw Page 3