Searching For His Omega - Harper B. Cole Page 0,16

I wouldn’t be turning that down. No, it was magical when I made cookies with my grandfather as a small child and when I cooked alongside my favorite chef in one of my first episodes, and even when I brewed coffee with Stan yesterday. Turning ingredients into more was its own kind of wizardry, and it never wore old.

“Yeah. That sounds...nice.” His eyes found something interesting just over my shoulder, and sure enough when I turned my head, there stood Glenn.

“I was hoping to talk to you both about today.” He stepped up to the counter eyeing our coffees. “And maybe getting a cup of coffee?”

“Sure.” Stan went to work making Glenn’s coffee without even asking what kind. No wonder he was so good at his job if he already knew what we all liked after such a short amount of time.

I ended up spending the day interviewing customer after customer about Café Om. We talked coffee, the location and its history, and their initial fears of it moving into their town. All of it was interesting, and some of it would make excellent television, but my focus was elsewhere.

I’d planned and replanned the menu at least five times in my head as I chatted endlessly with customers, Glenn feeding me the questions as he often did.

I wanted dinner to be simple, yet needing both of us working side by side, and nothing that took too long or gave us stinky breath. Every time I thought of the perfect dish, something would prove me wrong from the difficulty of finding the ingredients in the small town to the necessity of a special utensil to the length of cooking time.

And then I got an idea.

“Hey, Glenn,” we were between interviews and we really had plenty. I didn’t understand Glenn’s need to keep going other than appeasing the swarms of people who were interested in being on television. “I just need to run back to the B&B for a few minutes. Can you hold down the fort?”

“Go.” He shook his head. “I’ll do more interviews and we can do them with only one person in the frame so you can do your bit after.”

I thanked him and ran off, hoping to catch Ms. Bea and to beg her a ginormous favor.

Eleven

Stan

We’d arranged for Chet to come over at 7:30 which would give me time to close the coffee shop and get cleaned up. At 7:20, I jumped in the shower, thinking I had plenty of time.

But I had a head full of shampoo and the water was pounding on my head when a muffled sound reached my ears. What’s that? Turning off the water, there was a thump followed by Chet yelling, “Stan! You there?”

Shit! He’s here already.

Wrapping a towel around my hips, I padded to the door and flung it open. He was leaning on the wall with two huge shopping bags at his feet. His eyes widened and he nodded. “Nice. Are we having a toga party? Shall I get my gear off?”

My cheeks burned and both hands gripped the towel. Not sure why. He’d seen my dick and had it in his mouth. But that was then, and now with the last rays of the sun streaming in the window, I wasn’t sure how to act during daylight hours. “You’re early.”

“Mmmm. Bad habit.” He heaved the bags inside, and after glancing around said, “Nice.”

He was being polite. The apartment, like the rest of the building, was old, but had been redecorated. And it was furnished with a bed, sofa, table and chairs, along with a fully fitted kitchen. But I’d done nothing to it. I’d had no time to stamp my personality on it. “It’s home but not really my home yet.”

“I get it. My place still has boxes in one room and I’ve been there three years.”

That made me feel a little better, though he had an excuse with his constant travel.

“You might want to cover up once we start cooking. Wouldn’t want any nasty burns to ruin the evening—or your life.” His eyes were on my crotch.

“Oh, right. Be right back.” My trembling fingers had me tripping over my own feet as I put on my underwear. Oral sex was one thing, but the possibility of something more after dinner had me giddy and scared. It’d been a while since I’d been with anyone, and Chet had that annoying habit of making me feel safe and prickly at the same time. A constant push and pull.

But I