Kitchen Boss

“Okay.”

~

I did try.

I opened six bottles, but I poured only a little of each. I made sure Cathy drank the wine with food and that she drank water in between. But it was no use.

Right now, her eyes are already halfway closed. She looks like she might either fall off her chair or fall asleep at the table. And she’s been talking. A lot. Some of the same things over and over, others that don’t make any sense at all.

She’s drunk, alright.

I let out a sigh. This is what I get for inviting someone who’s never tasted wine before to a wine tasting.

So much for wanting to move things along. I guess I’ll have to move her, though. I’ll have to carry her home.

I walk over to her. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“We’re going home already?” Cathy asks in a slurred voice as she looks up at me.

“Yes.” I grab her by her arm. “I think you’ve had more than enough.”

“More than enough what?”

I pull her to her feet and place her arm around my shoulder. “Wine. Besides, Maisie’s waiting.”

“Maisie,” Cathy mumbles.

“You do remember Maisie, don’t you?” I ask her.

She nods. “Poor girl. To think that her mother died so that she could live. You think she’ll be fine when she finds out?”

I frown. I’m not really looking forward to telling her, actually, though I know I’ll have to someday. Not soon.

“I hope so,” I answer.

“Well, she is strong. Still, to think that she never knew her mother. And she was so wonderful, too.”

I say nothing as I lead her to the door. I’m more dragging her, though, since she can barely stand.

“Come on, Cathy.”

“And poor you.”

To my surprise, Cathy turns and puts her arms around me. I grip her waist to keep her from falling.

“Cathy…”

“It must have been so hard for you,” she whispers against my chest as she squeezes me tight. “Watching the woman you loved die. And to think you couldn’t tell anyone. You must have felt so alone.”

I don’t pay her words any heed because I know she’s drunk. She won’t remember all this rambling tomorrow. I find it harder to ignore the tender mounds of flesh pressing against my chest. And the scent of her hair. What’s that? Orange with a hint of vanilla?

Already, I can feel my body reacting. Flames burst beneath my skin. Excitement buzzes through my veins.

This isn’t good.

“Cathy…”

I’m about to push her away when her arms fall to her sides. I feel her grow limp against me and she starts to slide off my chest.

“Cathy!”

I manage to catch her as she falls, but the clip holding her hair in place clatters to the floor. I put her down gently so I can pick it up. I gaze down at her peaceful face and frown.

“Oh, what am I going to do with you?”

I put her clip in my pocket and brace myself to carry her like I do Maisie when she’s fallen asleep. Suddenly, though, her eyes open halfway. Golden irises peek from beneath her eyelids and hold mine captive.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she asks softly.

I frown. “No.”

Don’t tempt me.

“Why not? I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

My eyebrows furrow. Is that the alcohol talking? Or has she noticed what’s been going on inside my head?

At any rate, I can’t let her persuade me. Not now.

“You’re drunk,” I tell her as I take her arm. “Let’s get you home.”

“Are you going to turn me away again?” Cathy asks.

What?

“You’re always like that, teasing me, leaving me hanging.”

What is she talking about? Wait. Does that mean she wanted me to…?

Cathy sits up shakily. She looks into my eyes.

“Kiss me.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “No. I don’t – ”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that.” Hell, I’ve been wanting to kiss her for so long. “But now isn’t – ”

The rest of my sentence dwindles off as Cathy wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips to mine. Clumsily. And yet it sends heat all the way to my groin. My cock throbs.

Oh, damn it to hell.

I place my hands on her cheeks and kiss her back. I slip my tongue between her lips and taste wine.

She’s under the spell of wine. I’m under the spell of her.

I push my tongue in further, letting it rub against hers. Cathy moans.

I know she may not remember this tomorrow. I know she may even get mad at me and not forgive me. But right now, she’s the one asking this of me. She’s the one wanting. And I’ve waited far too long.

There’s a limit to how much temptation a man can take, to the extent a man can rein in his desires. I’ve reached mine.

I slide one of my hands down to her neck and then to her back. I caress her spine and feel the fastenings of her bra.