Page 79 of Love on the Rocks
Since my talk with Gaz, I’d been hit hard by a case of imposter syndrome. It woke me up at night, the hateful voice inside my head—who do you think you are? You don’t have the experience, everything you do is derivative, there’s not an original idea in your head.
In the end, all thoughts of food vanished when I opened the door to him that evening. We were hungry for each other. I tugged him to me, and he pinned me to the wall with a ravenous kiss and then proceeded to kiss his way down my entire body. He gave me one orgasm there in the hallway, then I led him into the bedroom and let him do it again.
Then I let him cuddle me. I was shameless.
“Your turn to tell me a story,” he said as I lay with my head on his shoulder. “Why don’t you finish that one?” He nodded atOne Week with the Greek.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I need to know if that bastard Angelos has Mia lick honey off of more than just his fingers.”
I flipped the book to where he’d left off and had just begun reading when I smelled something burning. “Oh no! The bread!”
I threw my silk kimono on and ran out on the terrace. Black smoke curled from inside the small clay oven, and when I opened the grill, the smoke tickled my throat. I doubled over coughing.
“I hope this is not a preview of things to come,” Nikos said at the sight of the charred carcass of my sourdough bread.
“You distracted me!” I poked at the burnt husk to see if anything was salvageable. The one unforgivable thing in the kitchen was burning your food. You could recover from too much salt or sugar, but too much heat or too long in the flames and you might as well start over again. Amateur mistake.
Let this be a lesson, you’re playing with fire here.
“Sorry, I won’t do it again.” He smiled.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
Back in the kitchen, I wondered if I should go ahead with my plan or just make pasta. Nikos seized my hand and studied the nail that I’d been unconsciously biting, then brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “The first nervous habit I’ve seen in you.”
“I don’t have many tells. I’m an excellent card player.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.” He slid down onto the barstool. “What has you so nervous?”
I hesitated to tell him the truth. “I wanted to make my menu for the restaurant, but I’m afraid you’ll hate it.”
“So far, your food has blown me away. I don’t think that will happen, unless I manage to distract you again and you burn everything.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, trying to make me laugh, but instead a shaky breath escaped me.
He slid off the stool and took me in his arms. “Hey,” he whispered into my hair. “Since when have you cared what I thought anyway?”
I pressed my face into his chest. “Oh, silly man, I’ve always cared what you thought. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”
“You did a good job hiding it.” He tipped my chin up and searched my eyes then brushed his lips over mine. The kiss was sweet like honey and I didn’t want it to end. Then I got that tumbling feeling again like I was a second away from falling off a precipice, and I moved away. I’d shared too much again.
“Sit here.” I patted the stool. “You get to see the whole show. In restaurants people pay extra to sit at the chef’s table.”
“I’ve already had a very satisfying first course.”
I winked at him and poured us each a glass of Jake’s wine. Then I pulled out my equipment.
“My God, no wonder your suitcases were so heavy.” He smiled.
“You mean the suitcases you so gallantly let me carry up the hill by myself?” I reminded him as I got to work on my wild fennel pesto.
“Tell me about this menu,” Nikos said.
“Well, first of all, it’s seasonal. But it will change by the cycle of the moon. Each course will represent one of the elements—either water, earth, fire, air,” I explained. “And, of course, it’s an ode to Aphrodite, since we’re only visitors to her island.”
“So, I’m in Aphrodite’s kitchen, is that the idea?”
“Hey, not bad. I may steal that from you.” I tapped my finger against my head. “Taste this and tell me what you think. I know I have to refine the technique.”
