Page 88 of Alex

When I have thoroughly searched the higher cabinets, I bend over and look through the bottom ones.

It’s pretty similar to how Mom and I organized our cabinets. Pots and pans are in one lower cabinet, and larger appliances like Crock Pots, mixers, and skillets are in another lower cabinet.

Strong hands wrap around my waist, causing me to yelp in surprise. Standing up and turning around, I meet Alex’s hungry gaze.

“God, Alex, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I wasn’t going to scare you, but you looked so damn good bent over with your ass on display for me. I couldn’t help myself.”

“I’ll remember that next time. No bending over.”

“Oh, you’ll bend over again, and you’ll enjoy it.” His gaze holds the promise that he’s not lying. My heart pounds because I know it will probably happen before the night is over.

Changing the subject, I ask, “What are we cooking tonight?”

“Steak and sauteed green beans.” He grabs the package of steaks out of the refrigerator as well as the bag of string beans.

“That sounds delicious. Will you teach me?” I feel weird in a shy way for asking. “If we have time tonight.”

Alex’s eyes narrow as he glances my way. “You don’t know how to cook?”

“Some things, sure, but Mom did all the cooking when she was alive, and I’m usually working so much nowadays that I don’t have time to cook elaborate dinners.”

“What do you usually eat?”

I don’t want to tell him and see the judgment in his eyes, but I do anyway. “Honestly, frozen meals if I’m not too tired from work, but most nights, I take a quick shower and fall asleep before repeating the cycle.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to teach you, but I won’t let you skip meals anymore.” His eyes bore into mine, like he wants to scold me, but it only comes out as a loving gesture.

He grabs several things from the pantry before coming back to the large island.

“Do you know how to mince fresh garlic?”

I shake my head. “I don’t even think I’ve ever had fresh garlic unless it was at a restaurant.”

He pulls me over to him until I am standing between him and the island. Wrapping his hands around mine, he uses my hands to show me how to peel and separate the garlic cloves.

Carefully, we mince the garlic before pushing it to the side on the cutting board.

If we weren’t holding a huge knife, I would have relaxed more, but having his arms around me felt nice.

Too nice.

Like I was wrapped in an Alex blanket, I felt safe and warm.

He pours olive oil into the frying pan and turns the burner on. “Next, we heat up the pan until the olive oil is thin and loose.”

Here in the kitchen, Alex seems more at home. Sure, he looks good hanging around the office and sitting across from me at the meeting table, but I’ve never seen him this relaxed before.

He moves around the kitchen like this is his domain.

While the oil is heating up, he grabs a bottle of seasoning and coats each side of the steaks.

I pick up the label-less bottle and give the mixture a sniff. “What seasonings do you use?”

“My own house blend.” He grabs another frying pan and heats it up on another eye.

“Is it a super secretive recipe?”

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