Amusing You - Claire Cullen Page 0,18
and laid it over the back of a chair before rolling up his sleeves. He turned to William and looked him up and down.
“You can get changed, wash up, and then come put your feet up. I don’t like helping hands in my kitchen.”
“It’s my kitchen,” he pointed out.
“Not tonight. Now, shoo. I don’t want to see you until you’re wearing something far more comfortable.”
William wasn’t used to anyone being so forthright with him, let alone an omega. But he didn’t have the energy to argue. Getting out of his confining suit and into something more casual sounded pretty good right then.
“Okay.”
He padded away into his bedroom. It was a relief to get rid of his tie, shed his work wear, and let his body breathe. He washed up in the bathroom, scrubbing away the evidence of his long day, and then hunted through his dresser for the most comfortable clothes he could put his hands on. He hesitated at the soft pullover. It was the one he wore on those days when he felt worst, when he felt loneliest, loving the touch of it on his skin.
When he stepped back into the kitchen, the room was in chaos—pots and pans everywhere, bowls stacked up, vegetables half-prepared on a chopping board. But when he opened his mouth to comment, what came out was, “That smells amazing.”
Harper glanced at him over his shoulder and grinned. “Doesn’t it? I realized there wasn’t enough time to make a really hearty meal unless we were prepared to be up all night, so I started it at home. It’ll only take an hour to finish it.”
“It being…?”
“Beef bourguignon. I figured if you’re not big on heat, you might like warm and comforting.”
Warm and comforting sounded like exactly what he needed.
“What can I do?”
Harper gave him a look of gentle reproof. “You can sit down and put your feet up. Preferably somewhere out of the way.”
William felt a little sting of rejection at that, but it wasn’t fair to complain. Harper was there at his behest, cooking him dinner, after all. The least he could do was leave the omega in peace while he worked.
“Right. I’ll just…” He gestured behind him and turned to leave.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
Pausing halfway to the door, he turned back. “Um, somewhere out of the way?”
Harper frowned at him. “Somewhere I can see you. I like an audience when I cook. Just not, you know, hovering underfoot and being a backseat driver to my cooking. That I can’t stand. How much good will having me around as a muse be if you’re in another room, anyway?”
“Not much, I guess.”
Relieved that he wasn’t being kicked out of his own kitchen, he padded to the table and grabbed a seat, positioning himself so he could see Harper as he worked.
“How many hours did you pull today? Ten? Twelve?”
“Uh…” He’d started early, just after seven. And finished right around seven-fifteen. “Twelve, more or less.”
“That happen a lot?”
“Some weeks more than others. There’s this client. They’re… needy.”
Harper snorted. “Needy?”
“Yeah, you know. Keeps making last-minutes changes, having flashes of ‘inspiration’ that mean I have to redesign the windows for the fifth time. That sort of thing.”
“Ah, I know the type. They’re the ones who send back their coffee because their latte has too much milk or there’s not enough foam or they don’t like the shape the cocoa makes because it reminds them of a stain on their ex’s rug.”
William couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“Yeah, sounds like we’ve got kindred customers.”
“People are people. No matter if they’re ordering a coffee or a building. Is it coming any easier?”
William’s tired mind didn’t quite follow.
“Huh?”
“The design side of things. You seemed to have plenty of luck with inspiration before you figured out it was me, but I got the impression it fizzled away once the truth came out.”
“Well, it hasn’t been as easy as that first time. But it feels less like I’m toiling uphill than it did before.”
“That’s something, I guess.” If anything, Harper looked disappointed.
“It’s still far better than it was a few weeks ago. I actually like my work most of the time now.”
The omega brightened at that, but there was still a veil of hurt that William couldn’t quite figure out.
“Plus, it’s bound to get better as we grow more comfortable with each other, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” Harper said. “It’s like first-date jitters, only on a professional level.”
“Exactly.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Harper worked, William doing what the omega suggested