Dishing Up Love - Page 78

Most of the time, I choose to change the subject, like I do now. “We need to hurry. We still need to pick up Emmy and Dean when they get to the airport.”

“You know, they have drivers for that, or they can call an Uber, and then we could spend the next few hours making up for lost time,” he teases, kissing the back of my shoulder, and it immediately sends a shiver down my breasts, making my nipples hard.

I look up at him over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’ve seen you since the last time I saw my best friend, right? There’s no way in hell I’m letting her get an Uber when I can tackle her at the airport… like I had fully planned on doing to you before I puked my brains out in front of God knows how many famous people.” And then it dawns on me, and a worried look comes across my face. “Oh, God, famous people. That means there were probably a shitload of incognito paparazzi there, huh? Which means the next time I look at my Instagram, there’s going to be eighteen thousand tags of me barfing in a trashcan with my hot boyfriend holding my hair back. That’s sooo attractive.”

He wraps his arms tightly around me, and it instantly calms me down. “Well, if there’s no time for hanky-panky, then I guess let’s hurry up the shower, so I have time to feed you before we get your bestie.”

My stomach rolls at the thought, but I know I should probably put something in it, because it is definitely empty. Even though we don’t end up having sex in the shower—we’ll just have to christen it later—it’s still a sensual experience allowing Curtis to take his time lathering up every inch of my body. And when his huge, masculine hands take hold of my head, massaging shampoo into my scalp with his long, skillful fingers, it’s almost as satisfying as an orgasm anyway. So after he rinses me off and I treat him to the same pampering, we get out of that heavenly stall feeling sated.

After getting dressed, leaving my hair up in a towel, we go downstairs and I finally get to see his kitchen. I’ve been looking forward to it, because I imagine the personal kitchen of a chef would be astounding. And I wasn’t wrong. Everything is white stone and stainless-steel appliances. The backsplash takes my breath away, and for a moment, I wonder if it was already there over a month ago.

Of course it was. There’s no way he would have remodeled anything about his precious kitchen just for me.

“If you’re wondering if I already had the white subway tile backsplash, the answer is yes. That’s why I kind of chuckled when we first met and you said you love Joanna Gaines. I thought it was ironic that the one thing in my house decorated in the farmhouse style you love was the kitchen, since when I met you, you were in the frozen pizza aisle and don’t know a thing about cooking.”

“Didn’t know a thing about cooking,” I emphasize. “I can now make almost ten different recipes thanks to a certain chef giving me private lessons over the phone.”

He smiles. “True story, sugar. Now, what do you feel like eating?”

I grimace. “Nothing really, but if you’re going to make me, then something starchy. Super-duper starchy. Like super potatoey starchy.”

“I take it you want some carbs?”

I gave him a cheesy grin and nod.

“All right, I’ll allow it, but there’s got to be some type of protein in your starchy potatoey starch. You think you could handle some cheese… maybe some bacon in a baked potato?” he asks, coming closer to trace the line of my cheekbone with the gentle tips of his fingers.

The look in his eyes takes my breath away and all the words right out of my head. Have I ever seen love so openly naked in someone’s eyes before? Never. Has anyone shown me such selfless care before? Only Emmy, her grandma, and my parents.

God, I love him, I think, giving a dreamy sigh inside my head as I soak up the feeling of finally being in his arms once again.

His eyebrows shoot upward, nearly hitting his hairline, and only when his eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth lift a little do I realize—

“I sure hope the ‘him’ you’re referring to is me, sugar. And in that case, him loves her too,” he says softly, and it confirms what I suspected. I hadn’t thought those words to myself. He made me so dumb they had come out of my mouth without me meaning for them to.

I swallow thickly and nod, my cheeks heating furiously. “Yeah. Him is you. That… that wasn’t supposed to be my outside voice. You just make me stupid.”

Tags: K.D. Robichaux Romance
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