crew came and cleansed the place. It’s spic and span again.”
She didn’t reply, but I could sense she was curious now—not that she answered its call. She remained silent as I guided her into the kitchen. A small gasp escaped her when we entered the room.
“My God, it’s beautiful,” she whispered, and I was reminded that she was the baker who had powered her small tea room from a run-of-the-mill cafe to something people spoke about on social media.
Did I feel guilty about taking away her business and the rep she’d worked so hard to grow?
Yesterday? No. I could say that you’d win some and you’d lose some. Today? Yeah. I felt bad.
Because of that, I wriggled my shoulders as she took in the expansive room.
I didn’t cook. Ever. It just wasn’t something I’d ever been encouraged to do. I’d been raised in a male dominant household, and even though my old man had been a cunt, his teachings had continued when I’d moved in with Aidan and his sons.
Magdalena cooked.
If Aidan entered her domain, her kitchen, she’d have whipped his butt with a towel and told him to get out of there. Even if he’d wanted to cook, which he wouldn’t, ever, she’d never have allowed him to.
Because I didn’t cook, the kitchen shouldn’t have been important to me, but I had good memories of watching Lena cook, of even watching my bitch mother prepare evening meals while I did my homework.
It might sound like bullshit coming from a man like me, but the kitchen was the heart of every home. How appropriate was it that I was bringing someone into that very heart, someone who loved cooking.
“Seriously, this is absolutely stunning,” she whispered, spinning around like some women might if I’d taken them to Harry Winston’s or Tiffany’s. I could almost see the drool longing to fall from the corners of her mouth.
The kitchen had a central island that was the size of a large dining table. Down the back side of it, there were red leather counter seats, and I released her hand to take my place there. She ran her hand down the length of the gleaming black marble, took in the central stove and sink that was in the island, then looked around the rest of the counters that were empty of gadgets. Cream cupboards lined the upper and lower walls on two sides, hiding some of the appliances from view. A large, humming fridge purred at one side, and she moved over to it, running a hand down to the handle like she’d touched my cock last night—reverently.
My lips twitched at that comparison, and I murmured, “If you don’t mind cooking . . . you can make whatever you want for breakfast, or I can call in for some take out.”
Her shoulders stiffened at that as she shot an outraged look at me. “I’ll cook,” was all she said, though, and once again, I was left amused by her stance.
Watching her maneuver around my kitchen made my chest pang with new and unusual feelings. There’d never been any woman in here. Not cooking anyway. One might have gone to the fridge for some water or beer, but they’d never cooked, and somehow, that felt right.
Like this space was hers.
My thoughts were enough to make me want to bash my head into the marble counter, but instead, I just accepted them. I was fucked over this woman, and I had no idea why.
Watching her move around this space was like watching a ballerina dance, and before I knew it, before my very eyes, she’d managed to find everything she needed—which was a miracle as the cupboards might as well have been empty for all I knew, not just of staples but of the appropriate kitchen tools—and had whipped up a stack of pancakes and served it with bacon.
I hadn’t expected that.
Most women I dated ate salad around me, and like I said, they’d never cooked around me, either. Still, I wasn’t about to fucking complain.
I’d half expected some miserly egg white omelet, especially when she’d started whisking a shit ton of egg whites, but instead, I was faced with the fluffiest motherfucking flapjacks I’d ever had.
As she cooked, I didn’t say much. Just let her work and kept an eye on my emails and messages as I sat there. Normally, I was in the office by now. Fuck, sometimes I was in there at four in the morning.
Today?
No chance.
When she served up a large stack