Page 59 of All Right No
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Ginny took the opportunity to pull on some clothes while Ash was in the kitchen. She debated furnishing him with a pair of sweatpants, not wanting him to sustain burns in intimate places, but actually there was something monstrously endearing about watching him potter about in nothing but a butcher’s apron and a pair of socks. He’d insisted his feet were cold due to the tiles underfoot. He had dressed, much to her disappointment, by the time he served up his creation, and admittedly, he seriously rocked those spray-on jeans and tatty old T-shirt. In place of Danger Mouse, today he was sporting Captain Caveman.
“Breakfast, madam.”
Ginny looked down at the dish, then did a double take of the man who’d delivered it. Definitely Ash, not Jamie Oliver. “Looks good.” She picked up her cutlery and dived right in to the fluffy golden yellow confection. The centre oozed with ham and cheese. “Is this a soufflé?”
He nodded, still waiting apprehensively for her verdict.
“You made soufflé? The man who professes not to be able to cook and who eats reheated curry for breakfast and cold baked beans out of the can is able to make soufflé omelettes with a bad hand?”
“You needn’t sound that incredulous. I might not know how to cook, but I can read and follow instructions. YouTube has the answers to everything.”
She took a bite. “Wow, Ash! This is amazing. It’s so good.” She wolfed down several more bites before holding out a forkful of it for him to try, even though he had one of his own ready to tuck in to.
“Mm, I guess it did come out rather well.”
“Not just well. Incredible.” She chuckled, and waggled her fork at him. “You’re busted now. No more excuses and claiming you’re incompetent in the kitchen.”
“It did get a bit messy in there. Look, don’t tell the guys. It’s not like I want to end up slaving over a hot stove for them. I only cook for the special lady in my life.”
He picked up his fork and dropped it again immediately. “Ow!”
“Damn, are you all right?” Ginny was half out of her chair, before he waved her back down.
“I’m fine. A minor twinge that’s all. Whisking is hard work.”
“You did not whisk this by hand.” She gaped incredulously at him.
Ash nodded. Allowed her to believe for a moment then shook his head instead. “Spook owns every kitchen gadget imaginable. I don’t think most of it has ever seen the light of day. I found an electric hand mixer. I think the vibrations might have been a bit strong.”
“Ah, okay. Remind me not to put any games involving buzzy toys onto the agenda.”
He caught hold of her hand when she reached out to lift her drink and kissed her knuckles. “I wouldn’t mind them, unless they involve Ever Ready Ash. Being fucked by myself would be too weird. However, I was thinking maybe I would try playing guitar this afternoon. Unless you’ve other tasks you’d prefer I focus on. Spook has an acoustic over the studio. I thought I might pluck away on that.”
“That’s okay. You’ve worked pretty hard this morning.”
“You don’t mind not being directly involved? All the tasks we’ve done so far, we’ve worked on together.”
Ginny turned over that fact as she chewed and swallowed. Them working together had helped him to stay focussed and calm. Allowing him to trot off on his own to practise ran the risk of him going off like a rocket again if he fucked up playing songs that ought to be ingrained into his muscle memory. “What about if I joined in? You could give me a lesson.”
“A guitar lesson?”
“Yeah, what other sort of lesson would I mean? I’ve always wanted to know how to play, and I’m a complete novice, so I’ve no preconceptions about how one goes about learning.”
Ash considered with his head cocked to one side. “I’ve never taught anyone. I’ve only ever hung out with guys who were already competent.”
“Didn’t you have lessons?”
“They were one on one, not with a group. The only person there who consistently mucked up was me.”
“I won’t know if you muck up.”
He ate his soufflé in silence for a few moments before agreeing. “But you have to teach me something in return. Okay?”
That involved having an actually communicable skill she could teach. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “What can you do well?”
