The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen

“Promise me you’ll carry yourself above the rest. Okay?”

Abruptly Kimber threw her arms around Lexi’s neck. “You’re the best, Miss Lexi!”

“Wow, I typically get that kind of response when I give a gift.”

Startled by the intrusion, Lexi and Kimber jumped and turned around. Stephen filled the space with his massive frame as he leaned against the staircase with his hands in the pockets of his pants, head cocked to the side. Stephen’s score card owned the number ten on presentation, she thought as she remembered to breathe.

“Girl talk is priceless,” Lexi quipped.

The corners of Stephen’s mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile, but the smile lost to a frown. “I did not mean to interrupt, but Andrew suggested I might be of some service.”

Andrew needs to be fired or given a raise.

“We came up here to finish up our meal,” Lexi explained, walking back around to the kitchen. She turned her back to get her bowl of deveined shrimp and butter and set it on the counter in front of Kimber. Still in the living room, Stephen ran his large hand over the cushy chair shaped like a red pump, diva-style shoe with a zebra-print heel. His eyebrow rose with amusement after spying the zebra throw rug under the fashion magazine–littered glass coffee table.

“May I help?” he asked, walking over to the bar next to his niece.

“I’m here to help,” Kimber clarified.

Lexi cast a glance over her shoulder in time to catch the surprised look on Stephen’s face and Kimber’s boastful grin before she turned around to reach for her frying pan. She enjoyed the girl coming to her defense. Maybe Stephen could relax now.

“Looks to me like you’re sitting down while Miss Lexi is doing all the work.”

“Oh, no,” Lexi corrected. “We’ve been talking and waiting for the water to boil. But this is a two-butt kitchen—”

“A what?” Stephen chuckled.

“A two-butt kitchen, meaning I can’t bend over to peek in the oven if you’re washing dishes.”

“I see.” Stephen licked his lips. His head cocked to the side, and something else began boiling in the kitchen besides the water.

Lexi gulped and shook her head. “Drinks. I have a pitcher of tea on the balcony. Kimber, would you mind?”

“Not at all, Miss Lexi.” Kimber scrambled off the stool as her phone rang. “You’re not going to believe where I am,” she squealed into the line.

The kitchen seemed to grow smaller when Stephen came around the bar and invaded her space. “What I can’t believe is I’ve taken Kimber’s phone every day since last week. How does she keep coming up with a different-colored one each time?”

“You got me.” She sighed. “Here, let me get you an apron.” Lexi tiptoed toward the pantry and grabbed one off the hook. She turned and Stephen was right behind her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I told you this is a two-butt kitchen.”

Stephen blocked her path. Just as when they’d danced, his eyes stayed fixated on her hair and then her lips. To create space, Lexi pressed her hands against his chest and wrapped th

e apron strings around his neck. “Turn around and I’ll tie you.”

“You’ll tie me up?”

Laughter of relief broke the strange tension between them. “In your dreams. Now here, I’ll need you to continue stirring the grits while I cook the shrimp.”

Thankfully Stephen did as she asked, stopping every so often when she needed to add some cream, tomato paste, spices and lots of butter into the grits while her shrimp sautéed. They cooked together in silence, but she was reminded how they’d danced together. On the dance floor he took the lead, but in her kitchen she did. He stepped out of the way when she added something new to his pot and back into the empty space.

The spiced shrimp took no time to cook and in her haste to get out of the kitchen, Lexi reached for the handle of the pan to pour everything into a serving dish behind her. She’d underestimated the weight of the pan and her wrists weakened. Stephen anticipated her misstep and swooshed right behind her, wrapping her in his arms and his hands over hers.

“Here, let me help,” he whispered in her ear.

Lexi gulped and watched the shrimp fall into its bath of butter. She sprinkled parsley flakes over the edge of the pan, prolonging her time in Stephen’s arms. How long had it been since a man held her? A little voice in her head reminded her that this was not being held. Stephen was helping her. The beating of her heart drowned out common sense. It took all her strength not to reach up and behind her to stroke the back of his head and neck. His lips were so close to her ears; if she turned, they might kiss. Beneath the fabric of his shirt she felt the hard muscles of his chest and abs. A bit lower and she felt the unmistakable swell of a hard erection beginning to grow. So she wasn’t alone in this attraction?

The sliding glass door opening from the patio interrupted Lexi’s wanton thoughts. Stephen took the empty pan and set it in the sink. “Miss Lexi,” Kimber called out, “this is not a pitcher. This is a bucket.” She hauled the container of brewed tea into the dinette area and turned around. “Cute apron, Uncle Stephen.”

Stephen glanced down and Lexi covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “Keep Calm and Sparkle On. Nice.”