I side-eyed him hard. “Ain’t no food cooking.”
I walked into the kitchen and saw grocery bags on the counter like dinner was still a theory.
“Maison…” I said slowly. “We’re… cooking?”
He smiled and reached for something hanging by the fridge. He handed me an apron. I took it, confused but playing along. “Okay… I guess I’ll throw this on.”
As I started to put it over my head, he held up a finger. “Nah… that’s not the rule.”
I froze. “What rule?”
He nodded toward the kitchen whiteboard and in all caps were the words:
‘PRIVATE NAKED CREOLE COOKING LESSON’
I blinked… then laughed… then blinked again as it clicked.
Oh.
OH.
It was something on my vision board .
“You sneaky, thoughtful ass man,” I said, my heart fluttering.
He just shrugged. “Didn’t you say you wanted to check off everything on your list?”
I looked down at the apron in my hand.
“And it said private cooking lesson… naked.”
He leaned against the counter, watching me. I should’ve been embarrassed. But there was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel sexy. So I did what needed to be done. I stripped. Slowly. Dramatically. Like I was auditioning for a food network special that came on after midnight.
Maison grinned. “You might make me burn the roux.”
I tied the apron around my bare waist. “Let’s make this damn gumbo.”
He turned to the stove, pulling out ingredients. “Alright, so I’m gonna show you how to make my grandma’s gumbo. But I gotta warn you…”
“What?”
He looked me dead in the eye. “She never cooked it naked, so this might be better.”
We both laughed as I stepped up beside him. I was the main course and the chef.
It started off innocent enough.
Chopped celery, bell peppers, and onions aka the Holy Trinity of Louisiana cooking. Maison showed me how to make a roux. I stood beside him, apron tied at the waist, not a stitch of clothing beneath it.
“Careful,” he warned, watching me stir. “That roux is sensitive. Burn it and we starting over.”
“I’m sensitive too,” I shot back, swaying my hips as I stirred.
He smirked. “Noted.”
At some point, I dipped my finger in the gumbo base and tasted it. “Mmm. Needs more spice.”
“Oh yeah?” He reached into the cabinet.
