“No, but I’ve had little tastes here and there. We’ve been at it all day. I wanted to make you something special, but I’m not sure there’s much edible out there,” he explained, cocking his head toward the table full of food.
“Nonsense.” Helene had the same forceful tone his Master Sergeant always used. “You have the talent I suspected. No son of Kane Adams would lack talent. We just need to hone your skill.” Helene stepped back and untied her apron. “Starting tomorrow, we’ll begin breaking you of your bad habits with better control of the basics like keeping the precious ingredients inside the cookware, not on you,” she teased, eyeing Robert’s complete state of utter destruction. Robert looked down at himself before giving Landon his charming grin again.
“She gives a compliment then takes it away. We made homemade egg noodles—” Robert said to Landon before Helene cut him off.
“Not my choice for such a dish as coq au vin,” she said with a tsk, and Robert interrupted her as she did him.
“I thought you”—Robert lifted a hand, his palm running down the length of Landon’s arm—“would like the noodles with your Italian upbringing, and you’re who we were cooking for. Which was technically today’s lesson: know your audience.” Robert got an arched brow and another tsk, tsk from Helene who went for the edge of the counter where her purse sat. “Let me walk her out, and I’ll be back.”
The camaraderie between Helene and Robert showed they had known and appreciated one another for years. Of course, his dick noticed Robert’s playful yet take-charge tone, along with his sweet teasing and gentle caresses as he looked over the kitchen and thought about Robert’s confession. This whole state of disarray was with the sole intention of pleasing him. Oh man, he was so fucked. Robert made him feel cared for, special, and wanted. Landon reached for some discarded packaging to help clean only to find the trashcan completely full. Shrugging, he started there first.
“You don’t have to do that,” Robert said when Landon came in from taking the trash to the bin in the garage.
“I can tell you had a good day,” he said, really liking the image greeting him. Robert folded his apron with the underside out to keep the mess on the inside and off the table where he set the bundle. He pulled his T-shirt over his head. Robert was the only guy he knew who actually wore a white undershirt under his T-shirts. Then he brought that over his head too. Oh, goodie. Landon’s dick hardened, watching the ripple of those defined stomach muscles the shirt had been hiding.
“I did. I’m a mess. Cooking properly is much harder than I thought it would be.” Robert’s eager lips came for his again as he started to pass by. Landon kept telling himself he should eat the food prepared before showing Robert exactly how he felt about having this man slaving away for him all day, on food Robert himself wouldn’t even enjoy. It was those endearing things that wove around his heart.
Overwhelmed with the urge to hold the man against him, he watched as Robert worked his belt free, letting the pants slide to his feet. Robert gave a happy laugh before saying, “I shouldn’t track this mess into the rest of the house.” His eyes were filled with excitement as he explained, “I’m not sure I’ve ever been this messy before in my life. Maybe there’s something I could do, like tucking my elbows against my sides, that will alleviate all the rest of this mess from getting anywhere else.” Robert was happy. Landon felt it radiating from him as he stepped out of his pants and stood there in nothing but his red striped briefs.
Landon’s heart swelled with Robert’s delight, proving what he already knew: Robert’s happiness was his happiness. All the defenses he’d kept dragging up against Robert had slipped away. He loved him. Loved every side of him. The acknowledgement sent a shockwave through his body. Then peace settled over Landon. All the anxiety and confusion melted away as he allowed himself to admit the truth.
“I hope you like this dinner. I learned the hard way today that any skill I have is elementary and very limited to my father’s style of cooking. Today was the trial, but I think Helene and I will be meeting a few times a week. She told me that I could have a culinary future if I want it. I did have talent.”
“Of course, you do,” Landon said, proud of himself for still being able to listen as the world rocked then settled under his feet with his insights. “You’re very talented.”
“It’s tremendous praise from both of you. Go change. I’ll start pulling this together. I had William Sonoma on speed dial today. They delivered all day long. I think we’ll be renovating the entire kitchen.” Robert started to walk away from him, but Landon locked an arm around his waist.