When I enter the kitchen, I see Julia pulling out a fresh batch of muffins now. For an older woman, she’s beautiful and she knew the deal when we got together. A younger guy like me and an older woman like her don’t last.
It’s why we ended the sexual relationship.
“Hey, Heaven,” she says with a happy chirp in her voice.
“Hey, Julia,” I give her a quick peck on the cheek and twirl around her to get closer to the muffins. “They smell so good.”
She laughs, tossing her dyed red hair over her shoulder. “Duh, I made them.”
“I need a few. My friend Heather says she’ll finally eat.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’ll make a platter for you—”
“Actually, I was hoping I could do it? I want to feel like I’m doing something for her. We have a long history and I think doing this will…I don’t’ know…win me points?”
“Sometimes I forget how young you are. It’s wonderful to see you wanting to please someone other yourself,” she gives me a playful wink. “I need to go make a few phone calls anyway, just don’t wreck my kitchen.” Julia lifts a perfectly groomed brow and slaps a towel on the counter.
I give her a salute. “Yes ma’am. Your kitchen is safe with me.” How hard can preparing a tray of food be? “Hey, Julia?”
She stops mid-step and turns around, folding her hands together. “Yes?”
“Where are the food trays?” I ask, opening the oven door, but I’m an idiot because why would they be there?
“Oh my lord, you’re going to burn the cliff down.” She rolls her eyes and starts to walk back toward the kitchen, but I hold up my hand to stop her.
“No, just tell me. I want to learn.”
“Above the sink.” She seems nervous as I walk toward the sink and open the cabinets.
A stack of metal trays lay on the bottom and they all have silver handles on each side. I take one down and set it on the counter, giving her a beaming smile. “I did it.”
“You’re going to be the death of me, Heaven. I’m too young to die,” she lays her palm across her forehead and pretends to faint.
“Funny.” I narrow my eyes to her, and she blows me a kiss before vanishing down the hallway toward her own room.
I’m left alone in the kitchen, which is typically not a good thing. If Owen saw me right now, lifting and getting food, he’d lose his shit. My chest is killing me, but I’d proudly die if it meant getting Heather to eat.
Plucking a muffin from the pan, I throw it across the room when it burns my damn fingers. “Fucking hell!” I groan, holding my wrist as the pads of my fingers throb and turn an ugly shade of red. “Damn it. You’re an idiot, Heaven. A damn idiot.” I don’t know where the holder thingies are that I see Julia use when the pans are too hot.
I growl, not liking that I’m inept in the kitchen. I get an idea when I see the paper towels in the corner. Whistling in confidence because I’m so damn clever, I rip a few towels off and cover my hand as I dip into the pan to gather a few muffins.
“That’s better,” I sigh when I don’t get burned.
Stupid hot and fresh muffins.
“What’s all the fuss?” Grayson asks, tugging on his shirt as he exits the hallway.
“Nothing,” I grumble, not wanting to get into it.
“If it’s nothing, why is there muffin on the tv?”
I pucker my lips in thought, trying to come up with a good reason that doesn’t make me look like a complete idiot. “It…attacked…me?” I say, but it isn’t convincing, especially when his eyes land on my red hand. I make my way to the fridge and grab some fruit, like strawberries and blackberries. I hear women love strawberries.
I grab some whipped cream— only for the edible and innocent meal I’m fixing, nothing else. Next, I take a banana and lay it on the tray, then head to where the coffee cups are. That’s the one place I know where something is.
Next, I get some milk, coco powder, and make two hot chocolates.
I can feel Grayson’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as he watches me prepare the tray.