Her Collateral Bride: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

Watt. Until she met the woman. She was twenty-one and

looked somehow younger and ten years older all at once. She

was curvy, deliciously curvy. Her beauty was something a

person could just sit and stare at.

Or lose hours of their life bent over spreadsheets thinking

about.

Claire pushed open the heavy wood door to the kitchen,

since the laughter was loudest there. One of the main selling

features of the house had been the expansive kitchen and

dining room, and she’d worked her own magic. The place was

something that any chef from anywhere in the world would be

happy to come and cook at.

She was well

trained, and it had once been her dream to

cook and own her own five-star establishment. Those dreams

died a hard death, squashed under Robert’s boot, or more

accurately, his ambition and greed. She hadn’t set foot in a

kitchen since, not even her own. Alright, so she’d set foot, but

she hadn’t done more than cook the basics. Raiding the fridge

didn’t count. She employed someone else to cook for her and

paid well, even though she required nothing fancy. Most

nights, a sandwich would have been good enough for her.

Jean was a wiry man, originally from France. Everything

about him was strung tight. He was long and lanky, with silver

hair that was thick and always stood out at all the wrong

angles. He had a mustache but no beard, a big silver thing that

matched his hair and was just as wayward. In his early fifties,

Jean was a good man, even if he wasn’t a very decent cook.

His food was passable, and Claire would never inform him

otherwise.