UP EARLY WITH a bounce in my step, I ran my errands in record time and grabbed a few things from the grocery store that I was pretty certain Michelle didn’t have stocked in her kitchen. I had a little extra time to kill before heading to Michelle’s, so I stopped by Gam’s and brought her a box of almond crescent cookies, her favorite.
She put the cookies on a plate and set them down in the middle of the table before she grabbed a root beer and handed it to me.
“What?” I laughed, suddenly defensive as I noticed her staring at me with narrow eyes.
She leaned her chin on her hand and kept staring, her eyes moving all over my face as I tossed a cookie in my mouth. “You. Something. What’s going on?”
I shrugged. “Nothing’s going on. What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. I can’t pinpoint it, but you seem… giddy.”
“I don’t do giddy,” I argued as I opened my root beer and took a huge gulp.
“I know. That’s my point.”
“Anyway, what’s new on your end?”
“Lawrence, I’m nearly ninety years old. Just waking up is exciting.” She sighed and grabbed a cookie off of the plate.
“That’s right. Someone has a birthday coming up.” I grinned at her as I wiggled my eyebrows up and down.
“Yes, and I want a big damn party. This will probably be my last birthday.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “You’ve been saying that about every birthday for the last ten years.”
“Well, I really mean it this time, so you better go all out. I want a huge cake and some of those Chippendales dancers, okay?”
I frowned at her and shook my head. “You’re out of your damn mind. I am not ordering you a stripper.”
“Really?” She let her hand fall hard against the table and glared at me. “You’re not gonna grant a dying old lady her last wish?”
“Have you always been this dramatic?” I laughed as I ate another cookie.
“Pretty much, yes.”
Wiping the powdered sugar off my hands onto my jeans, I stood up. “All right, sorry to cut the visit short, but I have to be somewhere. I’ll stop by when we get back into town, okay?”
I bent down and kissed her wrinkly forehead.
“Where do you have to be? What’s better than me?”
“Uh…” I stammered. “I’m teaching a friend to cook today. Just something easy for dinner. No big deal.”
Her eyes sparkled and she hit the table with her hand again. “I knew it!” she yelled.
“Knew what?”
“Is this little someone a woman?”
I sighed, not wanting to answer her question. She stared at me pointedly, tapping her fingers on the table.
“Yes,” I finally admitted. “It’s a woman, but it’s not what you think. It’s Mike’s wife.”
“Oh.” Her head jerked back a little in surprise. “That’s not at all what I was expecting.”
“Exactly. It’s just a cooking lesson. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
“Okay,” she said unconvincingly. I gave her a wave and turned toward the front door. “Most men wouldn’t put cologne on for a cooking lesson, though!”
I shook my head and reached for the doorknob as she yelled out one more time. “And don’t forget about my party. And the strippers. Maybe they can jump out of the cake!”
“Good-bye!” I waved as I shook my head and closed the door.
THE BEST SOUND ever greeted me as I walked through the front door of Michelle’s house.
“Yay! Viper!” I heard the thud of Matthew’s footsteps running toward me.
“My man!” I set the grocery bags down so I could catch him when he jumped into my arms like he always did.
“How are you feeling today?” I scanned his face. Nice pink color. No dark circles. “You look great.”
“I feel better.” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed so hard he made me cough. “You were right, the electricity worked!”
I frowned at him. “Electricity?”
“In the Gatorade.”
“Oh! The electrolytes!” I laughed. “Yep, they seemed to work. I’m so glad. Want to help me carry these bags?” I lowered him gently to the ground, and he immediately grabbed two of the bags and dragged them along behind him on the wood floor. He dropped the bags in the doorway, almost making me trip on them, and ran off to the family room to watch TV.
I pushed the bags on the floor into the kitchen with my foot. Michelle was standing by the island with the biggest smile on her face.
“Oops! I’ll get those.” She ran over and picked up the abandoned bags. Her blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and a pink apron hung from around her neck. She looked completely adorable standing there, all ready to go. “I’m so excited. I hardly slept last night.”
I laughed as I set the bags on the kitchen table. “Really? For lasagna?”
“I love lasagna!” She licked her lips and sighed happily.
“Me too. It’s one of my favorites.” I started pulling things out of the bags. “I also got the stuff for an awesome salad, garlic bread, and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.” Turning back to face her, I pulled my brows in tight. “Do you drink wine?”
“Not often, but yes. Tonight, yes.” She nodded excitedly. “What can I help with?” She grabbed one of the other bags and started pulling things out. “Holy cow, this is a lot of stuff.”
I sensed the intimidation in her voice. “Don’t worry, it’s not a tough recipe. I promise.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “But if it sucks, I’m blaming you.” She winked at me and started moving the ingredients to the island.
Once everything was out of the bags and set up, it was time to start.
“Okay.” She clapped loudly and put her hands on her hips, swaying back and forth as she eyed the stuff on the island. “What do we do first?”
“First, you relax.” I smiled. “You’re not gonna wrestle it, you’re gonna cook it.”
“Sorry.” She laughed. “I’m a little pumped.”
“I can tell.” I motioned toward her apron.
She looked down at herself and back up at me. “What? You don’t like my apron?”
“Oh, it’s fantastic,” I teased sarcastically as she frowned at me. “Let’s get moving or we’re gonna be ordering pizza again.” I piled up the ground beef, Italian sausage, onion, and garlic. “Why don’t you start browning those?”
“Okay.” She nodded, then shifted her eyes up to mine. She looked tiny and innocent and adorable. “Um… how do I do that?”
“How do you brown something?” I repeated back to her, positive I’d heard her question wrong.
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Whoa. Okay, let’s start with the basics. Where are your pots and pans?”
“Ugh. This is so embarrassing.” She covered her face with one hand and pointed to the cabinet behind me with the other.
I opened the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan that had clearly never been used.
Trying hard to contain my shock, I held it up and looked at her. “Is this brand new?”
Still hiding her face behind her hands, she nodded.
I reached out and moved her hands from her face. Her cheeks were as pink as her apron and she looked down at the ground, avoiding my eyes.
“How long have you had these?” I asked as I lifted her chin to face me.
“That’s not important,” she snapped playfully as she grabbed the pan from me and put it on the stove. “Teach me how to brown this stuff.”
She turned to face the stove and my eyes moved slowly from the top of her head, down her neck, then down to her collarbone. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away.
Get your shit together, Viper. You’re teaching her to cook dinner and then you’re leaving.
“Okay.” I cleared my throat. “Open the meat and drop it in the pan, turning the heat between medium and high.”
Michelle’s movements were very slow and very graceful as she did everything I said, just the way I said to. Every time I gave her instructions on something, her tongue stuck out just a bit as she concentrated.
We worked together in the kitchen like a well-oiled machine, and before long, dinner was ready.
Maura woke up from her nap just in time to eat. While Michelle went up to get her, Matthew and I set the table. I moved the tray of lasagna over to the table and poured two glasses of wine while Michelle buckled Maura into her highchair. Matthew sat in his seat, Michelle sat in her seat, and I pulled the chair out at the end of the table.
“That’s daddy’s seat,” Matthew said innocently, staring up at me.
Michelle gasped quietly and covered her hand with her mouth, turning away from him.
“You know what, buddy? You’re right. That’s your dad’s seat and I don’t want to take it. Can I sit in this one next to you instead?” I moved over to the chair next to him as he nodded eagerly.
I looked up at Michelle, who had tears in her eyes, and winked at her. “It’s okay,” I mouthed.
She nodded, but I knew she was rattled.
I cut the lasagna and scooped squares onto everyone’s plates as Michelle cut a section into microscopic pieces for Maura, who was squealing for food.
“At least we have one fan so far.” I nodded toward Maura.
Michelle scraped pieces of the lasagna off of her plate and onto Maura’s tray as she laughed. “Well, she eats dirt off the floor and chews on shoes, so don’t get too excited.”
Dinner was fantastic. Matthew had not one but two huge pieces of lasagna and ate the salad like he thought someone was going to take it away from him.
“I’ve never seen him eat this good—ever,” Michelle whispered as he kept shoveling it in.
“Good.” I nodded. “What do you think?”
“I think if we continue these lessons, I’m gonna have to start going to the gym.” She giggled.
I scooped up another piece of lasagna and without thinking, said, “Oh, please. You have the most perfect body I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes flashed up to me for a quick second and I cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, it’s true, but I shouldn’t have said it. I’m gonna stop talking now.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, suddenly wishing I were anywhere else.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I appreciate it. I don’t get too many compliments hanging around here all day. It was nice to hear, actually.”
Thankfully, we finished dinner without any other fuckups from me. Michelle wiped down Maura’s face and put her in the playpen in the family room while Matthew took off down the hall toward his playroom. She took a plastic container out of the cabinet and started scooping the leftover lasagna into it. I was stacking the dirty dishes on the counter when a few dots of something hit the side of my face. I wiped it off with the back of my hand and stared down at it. Sauce.
Michelle’s eyes were huge as she covered her mouth with her hands, stifling a laugh. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled from behind them. “I was scooping the lasagna into the container and the spoon caught the edge and when it flicked, sauce went everywhere.”
“No problem.” I shrugged, grinning innocently at her. As soon as she turned back toward what she was doing, I picked up the wooden spoon, which also had sauce on it, and flung it her way. Drops of tomato sauce peppered her hair and the side of her face as she gasped.
With her mouth hanging open, she spun to face me. “Mine was an accident!” She reached into the salad bowl and grabbed a handful of lettuce, launching it in my direction. Using one of the extra plates on the counter as a shield, I grabbed a handful of the mushrooms we didn’t use and threw them at her, laughing hard as they bounced off of her head.
“That’s it!” she growled as she took the spoon out of the bowl and snapped it toward me again. Huge globs of sauce splattered all over the cabinets, the counter, and me.
It. Was. On.
I took a huge spoonful of sauce out of the pan and launched it at her. She ducked behind the island for most of it, but one big blob landed on the top of her head.
“Okay, okay!” Both of her hands stuck up from behind the island. “Truce! You win. I concede.”
“Deal.” I set the bowl down with a smug grin on my face.
She stood up slowly and I couldn’t contain my laugh. Her whole front—her face, her shirt, and her pink apron—was dotted with red sauce and the big blob that had landed on her head was now dripping off loose flyaway pieces of her hair from her ponytail.
“We’re not gonna do that every time, right?” she pouted playfully as she walked over, grabbing a dish towel off the counter. I had the sudden urge to pull her to me and lick the sauce off that pout, but I blinked hard to force the thought out of my mind.
“Hey, you started it,” I teased, bumping her with my elbow as I wiped my hands on another towel.
“Yeah, but I also got the worst of it,” she whined, turning to face me.
She wasn’t kidding. Little spots of sauce were on her forehead, cheeks, even in her eyebrows.
I reached out and gently swiped at a tiny dot on the end of her nose as she blinked up at me. “That’ll teach you not to start something you can’t finish.”
As her blue eyes bore into mine, something shifted between us. I had no idea what the fuck it was, but I couldn’t look away if I wanted to, which I didn’t. As we stood there and stared at each other, not talking, that familiar feeling of guilt tugged at my heart again. But it wasn’t the guilt from hurting Mike; it was different. I liked this. I liked being in the kitchen with her. I liked being with her, period.
“Momma!” Matthew called out from down the hall. “My movie is over. Can you get the Legos down for me?”
Michelle blinked and looked away, wiping her face with the dish towel before leaving the kitchen.
Fuck. Leave the house now.
I turned toward the sink and gripped the edge of the counter.
“Calm the fuck down,” I said to myself quietly. “It was just a food fight.”
Yeah? Then why is your heart racing, asshole?
While Michelle was down the hall with Matthew, my phone beeped. I frowned at the screen, not recognizing the number. I hit the button anyway and opened it.
Hey, Viper! It’s Anna… Portland. Listen, I can’t stop thinking about the other night and how sweet you were when you were in here with the kids. I’m off tonight and was wondering if you were free? Let me know! XOXO
I stared down at that message for about ten seconds and deleted it.
“Ahhh, Legos to the rescue,” Michelle joked as she came back into the kitchen. She noticed my phone in my hand and motioned toward it. “Who’s that? Do you need to go?”
“Nope. No one important.” I set my phone down on the counter and turned back to Michelle. “Let me help you clean up this mess before the sauce dries onto your cabinets.”