At the grocery store, he wandered the aisles and snagged the ingredients he’d need for dinner, then made a few more stops when he couldn’t find the final ingredient for the evening. At last, after the longest afternoon of his life, he pulled into the driveway of Mabel’s one-story brick home. He hadn’t been back since he’d taken her home after that first Moo Daddies concert, and now that he was seeing it in daylight, he was able to appreciate the way the aquamarine shutters mirrored the personality of their owner: attractive with a flash of the unpredictable.
He gathered his supplies and slipped an item on over his coat before walking up her front steps, laden with bags. He rang her bell and was rewarded with a delighted laugh when she opened the door.
“That is the pinkest apron I’ve ever seen.” She grabbed him by a frilly strap and hauled him inside. “Just had this lying around, did you?”
He followed her into her house and set the grocery bags on her white-tiled kitchen countertop. “What, this old thing? Yeah, had it for years.”
“Years,” she repeated, reaching behind him to fiddle with the price tag on the neck strap.
“You asked for a pink apron, and since the original’s with its owner a little north of here, I had to find a replacement,” Jake told her. “This is not an easy thing to find in Beaucoeur, I’ll have you know. I had to try three different stores. The saleswoman assured me that my wife would love it. I couldn’t bear to tell her it was for me.”
They both looked at the cotton-candy-pink apron that barely covered his thighs and the lacy, heart-shaped pocket sewn directly over his groin.
“I may not be your wife, but I love it.” She hooked her fingers around the straps and pulled him close.
He responded by wrapping his arms around her and kissing her soundly, enjoying the soft sweetness of her mouth.
The last thing he wanted to do was pressure her, but he also wanted to let her know where he was on the events of the day so far. “I was disappointed to wake up alone,” he said against her lips. Not accusatory, just a statement.
She colored a little and pulled back. “I promised Thea I’d meet her at the gym, so I needed to go home and get changed. Although I guess I could’ve just knocked on her wall. By the way, I recently learned that when you said she’s your neighbor, you literally meantneighbor.”
“Aggressively friendly literal neighbor, yes.” He ran his thumb along her jaw. “And that’s the only reason you snuck out?”
She turned her head to catch the tip of his thumb between her teeth, then let it go. “I needed a little time to process. Last night was…”
Her voice trailed off, and Jake rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m desperate to hear what adjective you come up with.”
She laughed and dropped a tiny kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Amazing.” Another small kiss, this time on the opposite side. “Fantastic.” One more kiss, directly to his mouth. “Intense.”
His enjoyment of her lips on his skin was interrupted when she gave him a little shake. “And? I’m desperate to hear your own adjectives about last night.”
“Mind-blowing.” He kissed her cheek. “Life-changing.” He kissed her jaw. “And yes, intense.” None of that was an overstatement. She’d opened doors for him last night that he’d never walked through in terms of physical pleasure from an emotional connection.
He was hooked on her now, so he kissed her throat and kept kissing down to the neckline of her soft, long-sleeved shirt, scraping his teeth over her collarbone. She dropped her head back to give him access to the soft skin there, and he could’ve stood in the sunny kitchen and kissed her for hours.
But he pulled back and said, “Mabel, I’ve got to ask you something incredibly important.”
She froze and asked warily, “Yes?”
“Tell me, and please be honest: Do you own a zester?”
Her lips twitched, but she kept her voice flat. “I like grated cinnamon in my hot chocolate. Of course I own a zester.”
“Okay then,” he said. “Step back and let the master work. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to provide the music for the afternoon.”
“I’ve been training for that my whole life. Zesting, not so much.” She connected her iPhone to the speaker in her kitchen and thumbed through her music list, settling on Kate Nash. She then seated herself on a stool at the countertop and hooked her bare feet around the rungs to watch as he prepared a chicken for roasting, sliced potatoes for a gratin, and put the zester to good use on lemon-infused asparagus.
“No dessert?” Mabel faux pouted. “Slacker.”
“As if I would leave you with no dessert,” Jake scoffed. “Check the bag to your left.”
“Is this…?” Mabel extracted a glossy white box with the words Have Your Cake Bakery printed on the top.
“Cupcakes from my friend’s bakery in Chicago, yes. I brought some back with me for a taste test.”
“You remembered!”
“That you once described cupcakes as orgasmic? I did. That kind of imagery tends to stay with a guy.” Jake turned away from the stove. “Okay, the chicken and potatoes go in the oven now, and we hit the asparagus at the very end. Want to give me the official tour of the house?”
