Page 6 of His Big Pipe

“Mom’s still in China. She’s a professor. And my dad…” she pauses, and taps her fingers on the counter. “He passed away a while ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” She starts grabbing pots, pans, and utensils from drawers like she’s done this many times before. Even in a kitchen she’s never been in.

She gets to work chopping an assortment of vegetables.

“So why are you here in Deepwood?” I ask, putting the beer bottle next to her.

“My grandmother on my mom’s side just passed. We didn’t get to see each other very often, but I often felt she understood me the most. Like kindred spirits or something. She left me a nice chunk of money with instructions to follow my dreams.”

I nod.

“My dream is to run a bed and breakfast. So I’m trying to make her proud.” She smiles wistfully, then downs a huge swig of beer.

My kinda girl.

She looks perfectly at home as she moves around, cooking, bringing the dumplings to life, along with the other dishes. She talks as she fills a couple different pots with water to boil. I admit, I like seeing her there. She seems comfortable, happy. Like she belongs there. Not for my benefit, of course. But because it’s what gives her the most joy.

I’m already lost in her smile and the delicious aromas swirling around us.

“Why don’t you set the table?” she asks, and I nod before I take off my cap, wash my hands, and get to work.

My mouth is watering by the time we finally sit at my dining table, where I’ve only ever played board games and set puzzles.

She points to a dark sauce in a small dish. “This is for the dumplings - it’s black vinegar with ginger, plus a hint of chili oil. I hope you’re okay with a little spice.”

“I love spice.”

“Good to know,” she says with a wink.

My face heats, and she hands me some chopsticks. “I’m not good with these.”

I go to put them down but she stops me. “I’ll give you some tips. It’s part of the experience.”

After I pile some food onto my plate, she pulls up a chair next to me and demonstrates with her chopstick technique.

“Put the first one in the crease between your thumb and palm, resting it against the inside of your ring finger.” She lifts it to show me, and I follow. “Then put the other in between your thumb and pointer finger, with a little help from your middle finger.” I copy her once again.

She picks up a piece of bok choy and puts it in her mouth. I watch mesmerized as she chews.

She gestures toward me. “Your turn, big guy.”

I grab a piece of bok choy and lift, but it slips out.

“It’s slippery,” she giggles. “But here.” She leans over to put her hand on mine, and I try not to tremble. Damn, I must be hungry.

“Keep this thumb straight.” She strokes her thumb over mine, and that tiny motion has my cock stiffening. “It’ll give you more control over this stick.”

Not my stick.

She turns to look at me and our faces are inches apart. I can feel her soft breath on my cheek.

Fuck, I could kiss her right now.

What am I saying? I just want to help someone out in a dire situation and get some home-cooked meals. I don’t need to be acting like a horny teenager.

But I’m staring at her mouth like I could devour her faster than the meal on the table.

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