Page 87 of Filthy Dirty Dom

Suddenly, Maria chased after them. “I want something from the pantry, too.”

As the trio’s footsteps receded, Alex said, “Turns out you’re quite the cook. Do you think Renee would mind if I stole one of those pieces now?”

Leslie shook her head. “Don’t do that. They’re not cooked through all the way, remember. They’ll finish in the oven.”

“Oh right.” His eyes fell on the flour bag and before she knew what was happening, he launched a surprise attack. Quickly grabbing some flour from the bag, he threw it. The flour arced through the air, landing in a soft, white cloud over Leslie.

The unexpected assault left her spluttering, white dust settling on her hair and darkening her shirt. She stood there, blinking through the haze, her surprise slowly giving way to comprehension. And then, she was grinning - a wide, vibrant grin that lit up her eyes and echoed through the kitchen. "Oh, you're asking for it now, mister!" she retorted, her voice filled with laughter.

With a playful squeal, she reached for her own ammunition, a handful of flour held aloft in mock threat. Alex's laughter echoed through the room as he braced for impact, holding up his hands in feigned surrender. But Leslie was merciless, launching her counter-attack with a triumphant cry.

What was once a serene cooking lesson had been transformed into a battlefield. Flour flew through the air, painting everything in its path a ghostly white. Alex ducked and weaved, but it was impossible to avoid the flurry of flour that Leslie launched with unbridled delight.

Soon flour painted their hair and clothes. Caught off guard by a direct hit, Alex spluttered, brushing flour from his eyes. "You've got quite an arm there, Leslie," he coughed, his words muffled through the cloud of flour.

Leslie's laughter was bright and carefree, her heart pounding with the excitement of their playful showdown. "Well, you should have thought of that before starting this war!" she retorted, her words underscored by another spray of flour.

The lines between guard and ward, friend and lover blurred in that moment. The flour fight was not merely about the moment, but about the bond they were steadily building, a bond that promised to be as unbreakable as it was undeniable.

At least, that’s what Leslie thought. With every day that passed, she was growing more hopeful that maybe Alex wouldn’t be able to walk away from her again when they returned to New York. She knew it was a long shot, but it wasn’t impossible, she told herself.

Their flour fight was interrupted by Bella and Renee's return. Bella collapsed into a fit of giggles. Renee said something in Italian to Alex, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the flour-covered duo and the mess they'd made. But the stern expression didn't last long, as she too started to chuckle at the sight. "Alright, you two. Enough of this flour fight. Maria went outside to play. You two clean this up while Bella and I go talk to Nico for a moment. Then we can finish dinner when we get back.”

“Sorry, Renee,” Alex said even as he grinned and winked at Bella, who giggled again.

Renee waved her hand in exasperation but she was smiling, so Alex knew she wasn’t put off by their little game. In fact, he loved the fact that she’d ordered Alex and Leslie to clean up the mess. It showed him that she wasn’t viewing Leslie as just a guest anymore, but more a part of the family. Considering Alex had once been married to Renee’s daughter Mia, that was significant.

She and Bella left.

He picked up a dish towel from the hook on the wall as he looked at Leslie.. "We've certainly made a mess of things, haven't we?"

"We most certainly have," she agreed with a smile, laughter still brewing in her eyes. She picked up a broom from the corner of the room.

Alex wiped down the counters, the rhythm of his movements calming and steady. Beside him, Leslie swept the scattered flour, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I got lost in Paris?" Alex asked suddenly, breaking their silence. His words took Leslie by surprise, her eyes widening in curiosity.

"No, you haven't," Leslie replied, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Tell me more."

Alex leaned against the countertop. "I was seventeen and it was my first trip to Paris," he started, his voice low and melodic. "Mom and Lee wanted to take a cruise on the Seine, but I wanted to experience the city like a local, so I went off on my own. I decided to abandon my map and wander through the charming alleyways and boulevards."

Leslie paused in her sweeping, leaning on the broom handle as she listened to him. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster," she commented playfully.

He chuckled. "In hindsight, you're absolutely right. I wandered aimlessly for hours, got completely turned around. At one point, I was utterly lost."

"Did you ask anyone for directions?" Leslie asked, resuming her task but keeping her attention focused on him.

Alex shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. "I tried and let's just say there were quite a few miscommunications."

"So, how did you find your way back?"

"Well," he said, pausing for dramatic effect, "I ended up in a small patisserie. The aroma of fresh bread and pastries was irresistible. As luck would have it, the owner spoke English and was kind enough to guide me back."

"So, your love for pastries saved the day?"

"You could say that, yes. And that day, I learned the most valuable lesson of travel: always have a good meal before you get lost. And honestly, I’m hungry. So maybe that should apply to eating before flour fights first. This is going to take forever to clean. Yet, seeing that look on your face when I tagged you? Completely worth it.”

Leslie laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky we used all the flour in that bag, mister.”

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