by Jessa York
“So there’s a Jack now. We need to meet him,” she said, clearly waiting for an invite.
Trying my best to stifle a groan, I rolled my eyes and addressed my current conundrum. Deep breath.
“Charlie, we just met like days ago. It’s all still new. I don’t want to scare him off yet by saying, ‘Hey, new boyfriend, come meet my parents. FYI, my mom and sister are already planning our wedding. What colors do you like for bridesmaid dresses, and what kind of cake do you want?’” I attempted to get my point across.
She giggled into the phone, and it made me laugh. “Don’t be stupid. Men don’t care about the color of any dresses. They do like cake, though.” Letting out a dramatic sigh, I slouched over and put my head in my hand.
“You get my point, right? Can you give us some time to just be us for a while? It’s been years since I’ve been courted. It’s kind of nice,” I said into the phone and realized how true it was and how nice it felt to have someone in my life like Jack.
“Uh, that dick never ‘courted’ you, Harper. Let’s just get that clear. Hypnotized you and kidnapped your brain and good sense, yes. Courted, no,” she said. “I’ll give you some time, but you have proven yourself unable to make these kinds of choices on your own. I’m older now. I’m sticking my nose in this time.”
She spoke the truth. I’d already screwed up years of my life. I was well acquainted with that fact.
“I know, I know.” I nodded my head in agreement, not that she could see. “I get that, okay? I lived it. He’s so far from another Gabe, it’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah? How?” she said with a note of curiosity that made me laugh.
“Well, he’s about a foot taller than Gabe. Oh, and he’s not a complete asshole. He reads, he cooks for me, and he’s so gorgeous to look at your eyes will burn. I’ve got no clue why he’s interested in me, but I’m riding this train until he dumps me off,” I relayed to her, making sure I included all of the best parts.
“First of all, you are so gorgeous my eyes burn, and you’re all those other things, too. Minus the cooking part.” Charlie snorted into the phone. I deserved that, but still.
“Gee, Charlie, thanks a bunch. I feel so much better now.”
“Look, you’re a hot, smart, funny, lovable woman. It’s about time someone who’s not a tiny douchebag appreciates that.”
“Jack kind of said something like that, but he added, ‘legs that go on for days.’” I chuckled and blushed remembering.
“He did not say that. Harper, he’s really into you,” she said and, man, I hoped that was true.
“I have to finish eating and get some things done around here. We’re busy, and my attention was kind of divided this morning,” I said, more than hinting it was time to go.
“Yeah, daydreaming about Mr. Wonderful takes up a lot of your time now, I bet,” she teased, but she was dead right. “Call me tonight and you can tell me more.”
“Uh, no go. Roza is kidnapping...oh, I mean teaching Riley and me how to make perogies. I’m sure we’ll be gone all evening. It sounds messy and time-consuming.”
“Sounds dangerous, Harper.” She laughed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Make sure there’s a fire extinguisher available if you’re in the kitchen, okay?” She cackled again. Jerk.
20
Harper
Driving home after work in insane traffic, I kept thinking about how disappointed I was that Jack hadn’t texted me all afternoon. Many times, I wanted to text, but if I interrupted him in a meeting or something, I’d feel like a huge ass.
It also baffled me why I missed the man so much when I just saw him last night. Not even twenty-four hours ago.
I was barely into my apartment before a fist banged on my door so hard it bounced the frame.
“Harper, you have five minutes to change!” Roza yelled at me, then she clomped down the hall and slammed her door. Good grief. Guess she didn’t forget.
Hurrying as fast as I could, I changed into a pair of old jean shorts and a ratty workout shirt. If they didn’t survive perogie making, no big loss. I doubted that the perogie making process as a whole was all that difficult. However, me being involved in that process was another matter completely. If something could go wrong, it would. Guaranteed.
Riley stood outside Roza’s door. “Ready?” She pushed off the wall and held my hands. “We can do this if we stick together, okay?” she said dramatically to get a laugh out of me. God, I loved this woman.
“My sister wants to make sure there’s a fire extinguisher handy if I’m going to be using a kitchen appliance of any kind.” I smiled up at her. Hair tied back, she was wearing similar clothes to mine—cut-off shorts but with a plain light pink T-shirt. The whole look was so different from what she normally wore. She appeared to be about seventeen years old.
“Mmhmm. How about you let me work all the large appliances?” We both laughed as she knocked on Roza’s door.
“Finally, hurry up,” Roza said and ripped open the door and yanked us into her apartment.
“Where’s the fire?” Riley asked.
I grabbed her arm and loudly whispered, “Don’t say ‘fire.’” We both cracked up like two deviant teenagers in math class.
“Ah, I see. I have two misbehaving little brats here today. You both need to learn this lesson. Let’s go. Potato time.” Her yellow brunch coat swung as she stormed into the kitchen.
“I don’t like the sound of that, do you?” Riley said, still being cheeky.
I gave her an exaggerated, “Shh,” and tossed my ponytail at her.
“Brown-noser,” she mocked and poked me in the back.
“Roza, Riley pushed me,” I whined and faked a frown at her. Riley giggled.
“Yeah, such funny girls,” Roza said in a rather insincere tone. “Funny girls get to peel potatoes. Grab knife.” She boldly directed us, and so began our perogie tutorial.
Partway in, my phone beeped.
Jack: What are you doing?
I wiped my hands off and answered him.
Me: Just starting to peel eighty lbs of potatoes. You?
Jack: ????
Me: Roza is teaching us how to make perogies.
Jack: LOL. This I need to see. Want help?
A warmth settled over me like the midday sun, and I grinned thinking about his offer.
“Tell lover boy you’re busy. These potatoes aren’t going to peel themselves,” Roza barked.
“Umm, he wants to know if we need any help.” I glanced at the girls over the top of my phone.
“Do we want a professional chef to help us? Damn right. Tell him to get his tight behind over here.” Riley nodded.
“Yeah, sure. Why not? He should learn to make perogies, too,” Roza agreed.
Me: Of course! Apt. #227
Peeling potatoes pretty much sucked. I didn’t know how many times I got in trouble for cutting off too much of the potato with the skin. Then I got in trouble for leaving too much of the skin behind. My hands and fingers were already red and sore and my manicure now looked like shit. We still had half a bag to go. A knock on the door saved me. I practically ran to answer it. “Hi,” I said and smiled at the handsome man before me. He leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the lips.
“Hi, I see you ladies have been busy,” he said, removing his suit jacket and throwing it over the back of the couch. “What can I do?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves and walking to the sink.
“Hi, Jack,” Riley said, making big eyes at me while Jack washed his hands.
“Just peeling potatoes. I’m sure with all your expensive degrees and certificates, you know how to do this quite well,” Roza mouthed off to him.
Jack took her attitude in stride and chuckled. “I know my way around a potato.”
With Jack’s help, we got through the bag of potatoes pretty quickly. I was just proud not to have broken through skin any of the thirty times I stabbed myself with the knife. Lucky me.
Oddly enough, Riley also knew
her way around peeling a potato. The woman cut through a spud like a hot knife through butter, a real pro. Hmm, odd.
“Yay, all done,” I exclaimed and waved my hands around like we had just won the Super Bowl.
Before I knew what was happening, Riley gripped my wrist firmly and disarmed me like I’d seen on cop shows. What the heck?
“Ow, you party pooper,” I said and fake poked her in the side.
“Harper, you of all people can’t just wave a knife around like that. Sheesh!” She stared at me like a crazy person.
“I was just excited. I’ve never peeled potatoes before, let alone an entire bag. That calls for a celebration, my friend. Where the heck did you learn to disarm someone like that? You moved like a ninja.”
A flash of oh shit moved over her face, but just for a second. “Pfft, that was nothing. That’s the first thing they teach you in self-defense class. What’s next, Roza?”
Change the subject much?
“What’s next? I thought we were done?” Now an oh shit look moved over my face.
“Done? Harper, the potatoes are for filling. We still need to make dough.” Roza glared at me like I was an idiot.
“Baby, think mini calzones, but different,” Jack said as he scooped up the hoards of potato peelings and dumped them into the trash.
Roza showed us the ingredients and made us take turns stirring the dough. Despite the chronic ache in my hands, it was actually kind of fun. Cooking was hard, physical labor. Everyone else managed to stay fairly clean, but I seemed to collect bits of dough and flour all over myself.
“I think there’s more dough on you than in the bowl,” Jack joked as another poof of flour erupted from the bowl.
“Cooking is hard work,” I said, scowling at him and using my arm to wipe the hair out of my face.
He laughed. “Is it now? I didn’t realize.”
I’d had enough of his teasing, so I threw a handful of flour at him. His eyes snapped to mine, and his body went on alert.
“Don’t piss off the chef. Geez. Without him we’ll be here all night,” Riley whined. I’d had enough of her perfect potato peeling and her perfect dough stirring. She wasn’t covered in flour like I was. No. Not Little Miss Perfect. I picked up another handful of flour and threw it on her.
She jumped up with her hair and face full of flour. “You did not just do that,” she said in a low, calculated, scary voice. Then before I knew what was going on, she chucked a handful right back at me. This continued until Roza removed the bag of flour from the table.
“You two are like children,” she admonished us, and we both burst out laughing. We were covered in flour and Roza got caught in the crossfire. Oops.
“We can’t leave them alone for a minute, Roza,” Jack said and took over kneading the dough. We all stared as his big, strong hands manipulated the giant ball of dough and forced it to submit to his demands. He leaned in, pulled and prodded, turned and flipped it until satisfied.
“Good enough?” Jack asked Roza. Her mouth gaped open, but she quickly recovered.
“That’ll do,” she responded and body-checked Jack to the side. He smiled and walked back to the sink.
“Now we need to let the dough rest. Harper, put this small chunk in the fridge, and I’ll keep this bigger one out here.” Roza gave me a small handful of dough in a bowl, and I did as told.
She fed us some kind of beet soup with cream while we waited. It was so good I got seconds and more of her homemade buns. Yum.
After half an hour, she gathered us back to the kitchen for round two. Yay. I was already so tired from peeling and stirring, and my feet hurt.
“Harper, get the fridge dough.”
I handed her the cold dough, but she pushed the bowl back. “No. No, you will roll out this one, and Riley will roll out the other one.” Okay, bossy pants. I held the cool bowl and peeled off the plastic wrap. The cold soothed my abused fingers.
With a practiced hand, Roza threw wisps of flour all over the table, and Riley set her dough down and rolled it out with great success. I, on the other hand, was getting nowhere fast. My dough kept snapping back, but Riley’s stretched out, covering the table beautifully.
“Now, you see how Riley’s dough rolls out so nice?” Her pointy fingernail jabbed me in the shoulder.
“Yeah, her dough just lays it all right out there. Spread wide open.” I snorted, feeling exhausted and sore.
“And Harper’s is tight and frigid and inflexible,” Riley added, and we both doubled over laughing ourselves silly. Flour flew out of Riley’s hair, and it made me laugh even more.
“Oh, you girls are terrible. No, that’s not my lesson. Riley’s dough is ready—Harper’s isn’t. Sometimes we need to wait. Have patience for things. Not rush, rush, rush into things we aren’t ready for,” Roza said, turning a glass upside down onto Riley’s lovely dough and making circle after circle while mine sat in a cold lump.
“Harper’s dough just needs a bit of warming up,” Jack said as he sidled up next to me. He removed the cold lump from my hand and gave me a sexy as hell grin. Again, we all stood captivated by his movements. The way his arm muscles flexed and how he had his complete concentration on that simple combination of flour and water was a total turn-on. Eventually, his dough was just as malleable as Riley’s easy dough.
“See? It just took a little patience and elbow grease,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. Then he dropped the ball onto the table. “Now, I need to get back to the restaurant. Thanks for the lesson, Roza,” he said. “That’s something we should all learn.” He winked at her, and I swear I saw her blush.
Picking up his coat, he said, “Walk me out?” I followed the hot dough master out the door, and he quickly shut it behind me. “I wish I could stay longer,” he whispered as he took me into his arms.
I rose up on my toes and kissed him. “Me, too. Thanks for your help.”
“Uh-uh,” he murmured against my lips. “If I have to leave your sweet body and go work in a hot, stifling kitchen for hours on end, I’m going to need more than that to go on.”
Not exactly understanding his meaning, I kissed him again. This time I searched for his tongue. He gladly cooperated. “Definitely an improvement. But I’ll show you what I mean,” he said, then continued to back me up against the wall and took my mouth in a deep, delicious kiss. His hands went straight to my ass and squeezed my body against his. I dug my hands into his shirt and held on for the ride.
When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless and gasping for air. “You get what I mean now?” he asked, his hot breath puffing on my face.
“I think so,” I said and looked up at him with swollen lips and wonder in my eyes. Nobody had ever kissed me like that before.
“You’ll learn,” he said and kissed me again on my nose before striding away into the sunset.
Once in my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch and reached for my book. Only thing missing was my new reading partner. Bravely, I threw caution to the wind and texted Jack.
Me: Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Just sitting on my couch reading, wishing you were here to snuggle with. Hope you had a good day and your meetings went well.
I chucked my phone beside me and decided to shower instead.
A couple of hours later, I was in bed reading and almost asleep when my phone pinged. It was a text from Jack.
Jack: Are you still awake?
I texted back that I was and then my phone rang.
“Hi, gorgeous, I got your text. How are you?” he said in his lazy, sexy voice that made me clench my thighs together.
“Good. Tired but good. We finished the perogies, and I’m sore all over. Cooking is hard work, you know.” I informed him of a fact he was well acquainted with.
He chuckled into the phone. “Is it? Hmm, do you need a massage? I could work out those tight cooking muscles for you.” Another thigh squeeze.
“That would be nice.” I stretched my arms up and yawned. “Too bad you aren’t here.”
I sighed into the phone, and then there were a few moments of silence before he replied.
“Let’s say I’m downstairs in the parking lot staring up at your window. Would you think that’s stalkerish? Or cute?” he asked warily.
“Umm, stalkerish,” I said and tried my best to tease him. There was another awkward silence, so I decided to give in. “Jack? Come up, okay?”
He exhaled loudly into the phone. “You had me there, you know that?”
I giggled and couldn’t believe he was here. “Come up. I’ll go open the door. Hurry,” I said, then hung up and bolted to the front door. All I had on was his stupid stolen T-shirt.
My heart beat faster and I felt breathless as his steps got closer. He turned the corner with a gray suit jacket slung over his arm, his shirt unbuttoned, and a savage look on his face that stopped my heart.
His eyes pinned me to the floor, and he muttered, “Inside, Harper,” as he pushed me gently backward. I acquiesced, unable to take my eyes off him even for a moment. As soon as the door shut, he threw his coat onto the couch, crushed his mouth to mine, and pulled me hard into his body. There was no place I would rather be than in this beautiful man’s arms.
Finally, he stopped and held me tight, running his fingers up and down my back. “Fuck, I missed you tonight. You’re all I could think about.”
Did he just say that? Holy cow.
“I missed you, too. I wanted to text you all day, but I was scared to bother you,” I confessed and squeezed him tighter, so happy to be in his arms again.
He pushed away and glared down at me. “Harper, your texts and calls would have been a welcome distraction. Trust me, you can always text me, and if I’m busy I’ll answer back when I can.” My insides got all tingly at that knowledge.
“Are you hungry? Roza gave me some food to take home. I can reheat it.” I wondered if he had time to eat during his busy evening.
He exhaled and closed his eyes. “I’m fucking starved, honey. Do me a favor, though? I need a shower in a big way, then I’ll eat whatever you have,” he said, and the last part made certain girlie parts quiver.