Chapter 27
Kitchen Magic
Randi was thankful for the diversion. After she’d taken a picture of Martin and the fish, they put away their fishing gear and headed to the house. They were going to wash up and see what Mike had to cook.
Martin wanted to eat in, if that suited her. She was fine with spending the evening alone, just the two of them. She knew it wasn’t easy to stop once they started kissing, but by being careful, they would keep things in check.
When she was in the bathroom at the sink, she looked in the mirror and smiled. What would it be like to be married to Martin Taylor? She held her hands up and looked at them. First, there would be some kind of elegant and well-designed rock on her left hand.
She washed her face and freshened up. It would be amazing, she thought, to be Martin’s wife. She was so in love with the man and knew it would be really hard to give him up. How could you become so attached to someone in such a short amount of time?
Putting on the clean shirt she’d brought with her, she sighed. She really wished her mother would talk with her about her relationship with Martin with an open mind. Randy wanted some guidance but didn’t need the constant, negative comments.
She opened her purse and took out the earrings and necklace Martin had given her at Christmas. She thought he might notice and she wanted him to know that she loved the gift.
She walked through the house, looking it over. It was rustic - definitely a man’s home. Martin was nowhere to be found so she went to the kitchen and started looking around. Mike had said to act like they were at home, so she did.
Randi was looking forward to cooking for Martin. It was work, but she enjoyed impressing him with her cooking abilities. In the freezer she found several rib eye steaks. She took two out to thaw. She also found potatoes, garlic bread and an array of canned vegetables. About ten minutes later, she heard music coming from another room. Potato in hand, she walked through the house looking for Martin.
She found him in what she assumed was the living room. He was standing, remote in hand, in front of a stereo system. She leaned in the doorframe, smiling.
Martin was so handsome. Like her, he had changed shirts. He was still wearing his jeans but he’d lost his shoes and only had on his socks.
“Are you hungry, handsome?” she asked.
Martin pushed a few more buttons then laid down the remote. “Starving. Do you need some help?”
“I’m afraid you’d just be a distraction. Why don’t you work on your acting skills, watch sports or something?”
He came to stand in front of her and asked, “Is this a suggestion because you’ve been watching my movies, or do you just want me out of the way while you work your kitchen magic?”
“The latter. Your acting skills are just fine. I never knew it would be so much fun to date an actor.” She turned to walk away doubting he would let it drop. When she felt his hands go to her waist, she turned.
“Care to elaborate?”
“I can, but I shouldn’t. Not if you want to eat anytime soon. I’m a little concerned my comments will change your mood and distract my progress.”
Martin wasn’t looking her in the eye. His gaze was on her waist and his hands. He pushed her lightly against the doorframe and smiled as he brought his gaze up to meet her eyes. “You do notice that I’m holding a knife and a potato?”
“I’ve never been into bondage, or strange, sex food acts, but I’m game if you are?” He leaned in kissing her once. She kissed him back and when he pulled back, she smiled.
“I’m not starting any strange, or normal, sex acts tonight, young man. Go! Take your handsome self and read one of those scripts you’re always talking about.”
“Spoilsport,” was all he said. But, before he changed his mind, or she did, she turned and went back into the kitchen. It was good to see he had a good sense of humor and seemingly more patience than she ever thought he would have.
Forty-five minutes later she was setting plates on the table when Martin came walking in, script in hand. His lips were moving and he was rehearsing some line in his head. “It smells so good,” he said. “I couldn’t stay away.”
“It’s ready, or just about. Grab me a soda or something close, and whatever you want, and set down.”
He did as she asked, and when he got close, leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “Don’t ever change,” he said.
“I’m not planning to, but what are you talking about?” Most of the food was on the table, and as she took the garlic toast out of the oven, she turned to find him getting a roll of paper towels out of a cabinet.
“Mike doesn’t have napkins so these will have to do.”
“That’s fine. They work just as well.” Randi moved to sit down, and once he was seated, she questioned, “What was that comment about changing? Did you mean don’t quit cooking for you?”
“No, not at all, but that, too,” he tossed in, with a smile, “I meant ordering me around. Asking me to do things. You would be surprised the way people treat me - like they’re afraid to ask me to do anything.”
“I can see that, and it would be easy to fall into that trap. You, and what you are all about, can be intimidating. I just try to ignore that feeling when it comes.”
“Please do. It’s so nice and refreshing, I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t ask me anything.”
Randi grinned and leaned back looking at Martin. “Good, because I’m worn out and someone’s going to have to do these dishes.”
“Dishes? Me?”
He looked up, and she laughed. “You said anything. And, besides, when was the last time Martin Taylor washed his own dirty dishes?”