spoil your fun. It's simply in your best interest, to keep you safe.”
Olivia rolled her eyes and looked at me, pleading.
“I agree with Nick, I don’t want you going out either , young lady,” I said, keeping my voice stern too.
“Tell you what, why don’t you invite your friends over here. Natalie and I will make the pasta and they can all join us for dinner. It will be fun. I’ll even let you play the music loud,” Nick tried to comfort them.
For a man who never had kids of his own, he sure was smart in dealing with them to reach a compromise that satisfied both sides.
“I guess that sounds OK,” Sarah agreed . “I’ll just have to call them after we clean up this mess you made.”
“Just one more thing,” Nick said, cocking an eyebrow . “Nobody brings alcohol or drugs of any kind into my house. I will provide the drinks. Otherwise the deal is off.”
We all started cleaning the kitchen surfaces till they looked sparkling clean again; then we went for a quick shower and change of clothes while Sarah rang her friends.
Back in the kitchen, Nick was dicing onions like a pro chef when I walked in, scrubbed clean, his hair still damp from the shower. I stood behind him and put my arms around his waist and hugged him, my cheek to his back. “You’re a good man,” I whispered. He set the knife down on the counter, and turned in my embrace. I stood on tiptoes and pulled him down by his shirt collar.
“Now where were we with the kissing?” He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss me, careful not to touch my face with his oniony hands.
His eyes were glowing . I wasn’t sure if it was from the onions, so I let go and started chopping the tomatoes and fresh herbs for the sauce. Nick washed his hands and poured us each a glass of red wine, holding mine to my lips to take a sip between chopping.
The aroma of fried onions and garlic filled the kitchen and my stomach rumbled. I scraped the other chopped ingredients into the pan and added a generous swig of wine to the sauce. As I stirred the sauce, Nick sauntered over and placed his arms around my waist, his chin resting on the top of my head. “Let's taste for seasoning,” I said as I held out a spoon for him to sample.
“Delicious, all it needs is a teaspoon of brown sugar,” he said as he smacked his lips.
“Sugar? Are you serious?”
“Yes, little one, it brings out the flavor of the tomatoes. I learned that in Italy.” He chuckled as he found the sugar bowl. “Now let the sauce simmer as I show you how to roll out the pasta.”
All my married life , cooking had been a chore, not one I particularly enjoyed. Gabriel barely knew where the pantry was, never mind what was inside it. Sure, Gabe would fire up the barbeque on occasion, but that was the closest he ever got to cooking. The idea of us preparing a meal together, over a glass of wine, would be ludicrous to him. The kitchen was a woman’s domain and Gabriel wasn’t changing his mind about that the last time I checked.
Which also meant Gabe seldom helped with the washing up or unpacking of the dishwasher or any other kitchen chores. Besides taking the rubbish bins out every Thursday – which I had to remind him of every single week. Go figure.
When the kids were littl e, he sometimes helped them get cereal. But that was because he hated them spilling milk over the table. And I remembered one Mother’s Day when he helped the kids make toast and tea. All in all, that was the limit to his culinary skills.
So, being with a man who not only knew his way around the kitchen, but who was also adept at cooking and cleaning, made my heart beat a little faster. If only men realized that the quickest way into a woman’s heart – and into her pants – was to allow himself to be a little domesticated. Women found that sexy, it certainly was a huge turn-on for me.
Nick had rolled up his sleeves, exposing the sexy section of his forearm again. He certainly had my full attention. I took a sip of
Olivia rolled her eyes and looked at me, pleading.
“I agree with Nick, I don’t want you going out either , young lady,” I said, keeping my voice stern too.
“Tell you what, why don’t you invite your friends over here. Natalie and I will make the pasta and they can all join us for dinner. It will be fun. I’ll even let you play the music loud,” Nick tried to comfort them.
For a man who never had kids of his own, he sure was smart in dealing with them to reach a compromise that satisfied both sides.
“I guess that sounds OK,” Sarah agreed . “I’ll just have to call them after we clean up this mess you made.”
“Just one more thing,” Nick said, cocking an eyebrow . “Nobody brings alcohol or drugs of any kind into my house. I will provide the drinks. Otherwise the deal is off.”
We all started cleaning the kitchen surfaces till they looked sparkling clean again; then we went for a quick shower and change of clothes while Sarah rang her friends.
Back in the kitchen, Nick was dicing onions like a pro chef when I walked in, scrubbed clean, his hair still damp from the shower. I stood behind him and put my arms around his waist and hugged him, my cheek to his back. “You’re a good man,” I whispered. He set the knife down on the counter, and turned in my embrace. I stood on tiptoes and pulled him down by his shirt collar.
“Now where were we with the kissing?” He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss me, careful not to touch my face with his oniony hands.
His eyes were glowing . I wasn’t sure if it was from the onions, so I let go and started chopping the tomatoes and fresh herbs for the sauce. Nick washed his hands and poured us each a glass of red wine, holding mine to my lips to take a sip between chopping.
The aroma of fried onions and garlic filled the kitchen and my stomach rumbled. I scraped the other chopped ingredients into the pan and added a generous swig of wine to the sauce. As I stirred the sauce, Nick sauntered over and placed his arms around my waist, his chin resting on the top of my head. “Let's taste for seasoning,” I said as I held out a spoon for him to sample.
“Delicious, all it needs is a teaspoon of brown sugar,” he said as he smacked his lips.
“Sugar? Are you serious?”
“Yes, little one, it brings out the flavor of the tomatoes. I learned that in Italy.” He chuckled as he found the sugar bowl. “Now let the sauce simmer as I show you how to roll out the pasta.”
All my married life , cooking had been a chore, not one I particularly enjoyed. Gabriel barely knew where the pantry was, never mind what was inside it. Sure, Gabe would fire up the barbeque on occasion, but that was the closest he ever got to cooking. The idea of us preparing a meal together, over a glass of wine, would be ludicrous to him. The kitchen was a woman’s domain and Gabriel wasn’t changing his mind about that the last time I checked.
Which also meant Gabe seldom helped with the washing up or unpacking of the dishwasher or any other kitchen chores. Besides taking the rubbish bins out every Thursday – which I had to remind him of every single week. Go figure.
When the kids were littl e, he sometimes helped them get cereal. But that was because he hated them spilling milk over the table. And I remembered one Mother’s Day when he helped the kids make toast and tea. All in all, that was the limit to his culinary skills.
So, being with a man who not only knew his way around the kitchen, but who was also adept at cooking and cleaning, made my heart beat a little faster. If only men realized that the quickest way into a woman’s heart – and into her pants – was to allow himself to be a little domesticated. Women found that sexy, it certainly was a huge turn-on for me.
Nick had rolled up his sleeves, exposing the sexy section of his forearm again. He certainly had my full attention. I took a sip of
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