Page 41 of Wolves & Watercolors
Aurora smiles as she grasps my shirt and tugs me back. My thumb strokes down her neck and across her collarbone. The way she shivers stirs an unexpected possessiveness in me. I want to be the only one who gets this reaction from her. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
Her floral scent fills me as my nose skims along her jaw. I place a kiss on her ear lobe and then trail down. She exhales a soft groan and tilts her head in an invitation.
I work my way down, kissing, tasting, nipping. Her nails dig into my ribs, encouraging me. “I like when you use your teeth,” she purrs. “Go ahead and leave a mark. I want something to look at later.”
Every muscle in my body freezes. Her words spark warring emotions so intense, I almost leap backward. She has no idea what she just said. Grabbing the counter, I focus on slowing my breathing and calming down.
“Cedar?” She slides off the counter and closes the distance between us. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” I try to keep my eyes averted, but she won’t let me. “This isn’t a good idea. You’re going home soon. And I like you, I really do, but this can’t go anywhere.”
“Yeah, of course.” She smooths her hands over her hair, untangling it. “Sorry.”
“It’s time to add the rennet,” I say, turning back to the milk and flipping the stove off. Without waiting for her to help, I measure out the liquid and add it. After stirring it in, I set the spoon aside. “We need to leave it undisturbed for a while.”
“And I’m guessing you don’t want to make out during that time,” she says dryly.
“We shouldn’t.” The disappointment is heavy in my voice. She gives me an odd look with one eyebrow raised. Guilt churns my stomach. Maybe she will walk away and that will be the end of our friendship. The thought hurts. I’m desperate for more, more talking, more kissing, anything. “Would you tell me about your life in Los Angeles?”
Aurora sighs and settles against me. It feels right to wrap my arm across her stomach and let her lean into me. She chatters about her tiny apartment, her job bartending, andher roommates’ crazy behavior. She makes it sound like an adventure but there’s an undercurrent of regret.
She talks until the cheese is ready. I keep listening even while selecting a long knife and cutting the curds into chunks. Using a flat ladle, I slice horizontally. I stir gently to separate them and then let it sit for a few minutes.
Aurora talks about the galleries she’s gotten shows in and how difficult they have been. I can hear her frustration even as she phrases everything optimistically.
Picking up the spoon again, I stir the curds slowly, trying to prevent them from breaking up while I turn the heat back on.
“So what are you doing now?” Aurora asks, peering in the pot with the cutest frown on her pouty lips.
“We need to slowly heat the curds up to one hundred and two degrees. They’re really soft right now, but with heat, they’ll start to firm up.”
“This really is a lot of steps,” she says, looking between the curds and me.
“I think they’re just about done. We need to test them.” Scooping a few curds out, I squish them together in my hand and then prod them. They fall back into individual curds easily. “If they stick together, they aren’t ready, but if they separate again, we are good to go. Now we remove the whey.”
“This is what whey is?” she asks.
Now that we’re focused on the cheese, I’ve relaxed. My body hasn’t gotten the message though, because my free hand runs down her ribs and across her stomach.
“Yeah, it’s the water part of milk essentially. We can use it in place of milk or water in a lot of recipes and it adds protein,” I explain, scooping out whey with a massive ladle until a minimal amount remains.
The door bangs open, framing Marigold. Her mouth is wide open, but she freezes, looking us over. Her expression melts into a smirk. “Oh, you guys look cozy.”
My arm drops and Aurora steps to the side, creating space between us.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but it’s baby time.” Her mouth curves into a frown, like she really is sorry for breaking up this time we had together. It doesn’t matter, I already ruined it.
“I’m going to go,” Aurora says, pointing at the door with her thumb.
“I need to salt this and get it into the press, but I’ll be around if you guys need me,” I say lamely. There is no reason they’d need me.
Aurora leans forward and plants a kiss on my cheek. It takes all my control to not grab her chin and kiss her properly. With a regretful look, she disappears into the house to follow Marigold.
Aurora
The quiet of Hazel’s cabin has transformed. Hazel’s voice drifts down from the second story. Cassia and Marigold hover in the kitchen, talking quietly and glancing toward the stairs. Jasper sits on the couch, forearms resting on his knees, wringing his hands.
“Can I go upstairs?” I ask no one in particular.
