Emerson had never been as hungry in his life as he had been after Luca left his room the previous evening. Emerson had showered and made himself a grilled cheese, staring at the stairs the whole time, sure Luca would amble back up any minute. Even though he had very clearly said goodnight when he’d left Emerson’s room. But still. He had to be hungry, too. Emerson had wanted nothing more than to make Luca Yaeger a grilled cheese at that moment.
But he had never appeared.
Emerson had almost felt as vulnerable eating his grilled cheese alone in his kitchen as he had with his ass in the air on his bed. Luca was okay, right? He had just left the room rather quickly. Not that Emerson had necessarily expected them to cuddle each other to sleep, but—Emerson had barely been able to remember basic motor skills after his orgasm. And Luca had been off the bed and walking out of the room within five minutes of his.
Emerson had done an okay job with the handjob,though, right? He’d been almost half-conscious for it, sure, due to the mind-obliterating orgasm thing, but he thought maybe that had actually helped his cause, made him less nervous. Luca had certainlyseemedto enjoy it, but maybe Emerson was naive.
Either way. No matter what happened next, Emerson was determined to feed Luca Yaeger tonight.
Even if Luca was, currently, hiding downstairs again. He and Jansel had entered the kitchen over a half hour ago, as Emerson had been chopping potatoes and peppers, adrenaline running underneath his skin and inside his dick in anticipation of whatever would happen tonight. Jansel had left after making his notes on the whiteboard; Luca had said he was going to wash up.
The veggies were in the oven, almost fully roasted now.
Emerson glanced at the stairs once more. He’d heard the shower click off at least fifteen minutes ago.
Fuck it. He popped an extra egg on the frying pan anyway.
And tried to school his smile when he heard Luca’s feet on the stairs a second later.
“Dinner will be ready in just a few,” he said without turning, before Luca could say anything first.
There was the slightest of pauses. Emerson could feel Luca’s stare on the back of his neck.
“Cool,” Luca said. He walked toward Emerson to grab a water glass from the cabinet. It was the closest they’d been all day. “Thank you.”
“This is kind of all I make,” Emerson said ten minutes later, after they’d both taken their first bites. Luca sat across from him at the table. His skin was fresh, scrubbed clean, almost glowing. “When I’m by myself. Hash with eggs. Salad with grilled chicken. Daisy makes me do the other stuff. Most of my grocery bill is for her.”
The corner of Luca’s mouth was tucked into a smile, even as he chewed.
“It’s delicious,” he said after he’d swallowed. “I could eat this hash every day. And knowing it’s all from you?” A lift of Luca’s shoulder before he dug in for another bite. “It’s kind of fucking incredible, Emerson.”
“Well.” Emerson flushed. “It’s not fromme. It’s from the land, and the chickens.”
Luca chewed. Smiled some more. “Okay,” he said.
“Although sometimes”—Emerson looked down at his plate—“I wish I could make my own olive oil. I go through a ton of olive oil. But, you know. The coast isn’t as suited for olive trees. I might try anyway, though.” What the fuck was Emerson even saying? Like, these were genuine thoughts he had all the time, but why was he saying them out loud? To Luca?
Inexplicably, he continued. “I like knowing that my salt’s local, though. Since Jacobsen’s here on the coast. It’s kind of amazing, what they do. Like, anyone can want to start a farm, but something like that—” He shoved a bite in his mouth. Talked through it. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know. That you might start to get bored with my meals, after you’ve been here a while.”
At least, until winter hit. Then he woulddefinitelyget bored with Emerson’s meals. When winter hit, the menu often got even more monotonous, and the grocery bill went up. But thinking about winter made him queasy. He wasn’t at all sure if he’d have money for any groceries this winter. He tried to stockpile enough potatoes and root vegetables to last until spring, but?—
Would Luca still be here, during the winter?
They’d arranged for Luca to work at the farm so Emerson could get ready for the wedding. Luca had offered to give Emerson orgasms so he could get ready for the wedding.
What happened after the wedding?
“Emerson.”
Emerson glanced up. Luca was staring at him, his dark eyes amused.
“I’m not going to get bored of your delicious food. Okay?”
Emerson looked back down at his plate, embarrassed. And relieved, that Luca seemed normal. That Luca was talking to him. “Okay.”
A minute passed by. “Um,” Emerson said. “Can you please tell me something about your day?”
And Luca, bless his fucking heart, did.
