Was that what we were doing? Fuck. Other than accepting our attraction and connection to each other, we hadn’t spoken at all about the outside world.
It wasn’t time to panic about something that hadn’t happened, so pushing those thoughts aside, I grabbed my plate and cup and took it to the sink where Adam was washing up.
Our afternoon class with David was at a test kitchen downtown. We knocked on the door and were greeted by David himself.
“Welcome,” he said. “I’m David. Come on in. I’m so excited for this experience with you guys.”
As we stepped into the fully-equipped room, I felt Adam’s hand brush against mine. Our eyes met, and we shared a smile. The space was infused with the rich aroma of cocoa and spices like someone had been cooking here since the morning.
“We’re really excited, too. I’m River, and this is Adam. Thank you for taking the time to do this with us.” I looked around. “Are we the only ones?”
“Yeah, sorry for the change of plans—” David started but was interrupted as a little girl came out of nowhere and crashed into his legs, demanding to be picked up. A tall blond guy followed her, shaking his head.
“Sílvia, sweetheart, what did we agree on?”
The little girl looked at her dad with the biggest blue eyes. “But, Dada. Sílvia cook.”
“Sorry, baby,” the tall guy said. “I tried, but you know how she is.”
David chuckled and then turned to us. “This is Joel, my husband. Our son had to stay home because of school, so she hasno one to boss around. Anyway, let’s get set up. This little lady will eventually get bored.”
“No need to apologize. I’m sure your sous chef has a lot to teach us, right, baby?”
David smiled as I bit my tongue, hoping my slip of the tongue didn’t upset Adam. When I looked at him, his face was a cute shade of pink, and he smiled.
We gathered around a table in the middle of the room. There was a bunch of ingredients to one side with a few bowls and mixing spoons next to them.
Joel sat on a stool by the table with Sílvia on his lap.
“Today, we’re making Portuguese chocolate salami,” David said. His eyes crinkled with amusement as he glanced at Joel. “It’s a super easy recipe, but it can get a little messy.”
“We like messy,” Adam said, “I grew up fighting with my brothers to lick the spoon whenever my mom was baking.”
“Today, you don’t have to fight anyone to lick the spoon,” David said, glancing at his husband, whose face turned the same shade of pink as Adam’s.
The recipe was simple enough. We started by mixing sugar and eggs in a bowl. David said we wanted to dissolve the sugar as much as possible before adding the chocolate powder.
I didn’t miss the knowing smiles David and Joel shared as we followed the recipe
It was obvious how much they loved each other. Were Adam and I as obvious? Could people tell by the way Adam’s laughter seemed to caress me or that our gazes always lingered a beat too long?
“Okay, this is when it starts to get messy,” David instructed, guiding us through the steps to add the melted chocolate and butter.
“I have a confession to make,” Adam said. “My mom has made hundreds of these, but I’ve only ever engaged in the licking part.”
I snorted, and Adam elbowed me.
“How does this get to be a salami shape?” I asked.
“Do you have Portuguese or Italian heritage?” David asked Adam.
“Mom’s family is Portuguese. Dad’s is American.”
“Just like mine,” Joel said as he straightened the little ponytail on his daughter’s hair.
“Oh really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, in fact, we were going to check out a Portuguese restaurant for an early dinner. That is if we can get a table without booking. Have you heard of Lusitana? We’ve heard amazing things about their food. Would you like to join us?” Joel asked.
