Chapter 8
When Megan awoke, the sun was streaming into her bedroom. She looked at her clock and realized she slept through dinner and through the entire night. It was almost time for Jensen to go to work and she had nothing done. She jumped up out of bed and scooped her hair up in a messy bun. She quickly changed her clothes and ran down the stairs toward the kitchen. As she got closer, she smelled something amazing.
Jensen stood at the stove, flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs. When he noticed her there, he turned and smiled his brilliant smile. “Good morning sleepy head.”
“I…over slept.”
“It’s okay. I think you needed it.”
“Are you going to be late?”
“I took the morning off. I wanted to be sure I was here when the security company got here.”
“What are they doing?”
“Just revamping the system. There is no reason I shouldn’t have been able to tell who was on my property last night.”
She put her head down and sat at the kitchen counter. In a way, she felt responsible.
“I want you to take the day to yourself.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said shaking her head.
“I insist. I won’t take no for an answer.”
She nodded, actually thankful for his persistence. He put a plate of awkward looking pancakes, blueberries and watery scrambled eggs in front of her and leaned against the counter. It was a lot of food but she gave it an effort. She didn’t need a lecture about her diet.
“Eat your breakfast. Go out to the pool later if you want. Benjamin just had it cleaned and filled. I should be back in around eleven. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” His direct stare told her he meant it.
She finished most of her breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen before going back upstairs to shower and figure out her day. When she got out of the shower, she decided on the pale pink pencil skirt and lighter pink sweater she had found at the charity shop when applying for this job. She needed to do some shopping but she was going to do it alone, with her own money. It was only ten and she was looking for something to do. She didn’t realize how little there was to do in that big house. She crept into Jensen’s bedroom and looked through his books. She didn’t want any more erotic reading. She ran her finger along the binders lined up perfectly on his bookshelf. She looked for a title that had nothing to do with love, sex, or passion.
“The Hitman,” she said out loud. She read most of the back and smiled. “This seems harmless.” She walked back to her room, opening to the first page and started reading. She sat on the side of her bed as she read about the main character. Houston was an ex-marine who was no stranger to putting bullets into men who deserved to die. He became a contracted hitman and completed a few jobs with ease. As he got more well known in the industry, his jobs got harder until he had one where he had to kill a witness to some very prestigious and wealthy business men. He was paid handsomely with a promise for double the amount after the job was done.
Megan turned the pages quickly, easily getting into the story. The profile was given to Houston and as he studied it he realized it wasn’t going to be so easy to follow through with this one. The woman’s name was Annette. She was beautiful, demure, sophisticated and an artist. She had agreed to testify against the criminals and in return promised to be protected. Houston’s job was to get to her and kill her before the trial.
Houston crept up through the bushes of the house and peeked into the window. He was sure it was the right house with the information given to him but he needed to be certain before breaking down any doors. His plan was to make it look like a burglary. As Jensen peered through the window, he saw Megan walking from the main room into the back. Her nightgown flowed freely behind her. She let her hair down and he watched as it cascaded down her back. Her long dark curls begged for his hands to grab hold. He swallowed hard trying to shake the sexual thoughts he developed for her. She sat on the edge of her bed and ran her brush through her hair. She seemed to be thinking about something. She let the tip of the brush slide across her neck and down to her breast. She closed her eyes feeling the bristles lightly dig at her nipple through the sheer material that barely covered her. Jensen put his head down and closed his eyes as his cock stirred in his jeans.
Before Megan knew it, she was lightly panting, her hand sliding along her own breasts, as she got deeper into the story. A knock on her door scared her and she jumped up off the bed, dropping her book onto the floor.
“Megan?” It was Jensen. She looked at the clock and realized it was after four in the afternoon. He slowly opened her door and peeked in. “Are you okay?”
She stood next to her bed trying to hide the book while she picked at her fingernail. “Yeah, um yes. I’m fine.”
He looked down at the floor and at the way she was acting and just smiled. He couldn’t help but notice how hard her nipples were through her sweater. He opened the door a bit further and her eyes widened as she looked down at his apron he wore.
“Jensen? What the hell happened?”
He looked down and saw the red stains on his white chef’s apron. He smiled and looked back up at her, amused that she assumed it was something worse than what it was. He wanted to play along, but given what she had gone through, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Tomatoes,” he said.
“What?” She still sounded frantic. “Tomatoes?” She looked again.
“Yes. Tomatoes.”
“You are…cooking again?”
“Hey, it turns out I’m a damned good cook.”
“Yeah, no you’re not.” She crinkled her nose remembering the eggs she forced down her throat.
“Well, I’m working on it. I want to be a better person so I have taken up some of my own classes, including the culinary arts.”
“I’m impressed.”
“So am I, actually,” he laughed.
“So, what are you making?”
“You hesitate as if you have no faith in me.”
“No, I do. Really. I just…wondered.”
“If you must know, I’m making dinner.” He eyed her for a reaction and laughed when she had nothing to say. “Trust me, it will be better. I’m top of my class. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Will you join me?”
She nodded to confirm her reservation with him and he smiled before disappearing out the door. She quickly put the book away and straightened her bedding. She looked in the mirror and fixed herself up before going down stairs.
As she got closer to the kitchen, she smelled something amazing and it made her stomach rumble. She walked into the dining room and stopped quickly. The lights were dim, there were candles lit on the table. Purple and white flowers surrounded the candles and soft music came from someplace in the ceiling. She took another step in and tried to peek into the kitchen. She turned around to leave and stopped before she did. She turned back around and stood in the same spot. Her palms were warm and started to itch.
Jensen came in from the kitchen carrying a casserole dish. He smiled when he saw her. She wanted to leave but knew it would be rude. Why did she agree to this? She took a step closer to the table and stopped.
“Come on. Sit. Everything is ready.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
Megan walked around the table and sat in her seat looking at the romance of the room. It was alluring and sensual and made her feel like the books made her feel. But this, this wasn’t one of Jensen’s books. This was real life and he was obviously interested. She had never had a relationship, not a real one anyway. Nothing sexual and definitely nothing worth dreaming about.
He came back in with a cutting board and a loaf of warm bread still steaming. The top was sprinkled with a dark yellow cheese melted into the crust. He set it on the table and picked up a long, very sleek bread knife. He slid the long steel blade through the bread with ease creating thin slices. She watched as each slice lay down on the last one as the knife sawed to the wooden board. When the knife stopped moving she quickly looked up at him.
His eyes were fixed on her and his smile was genuine. “You are blushing.”
She quickly put her head down feeling the warmth in her cheeks intensify.
“Why are you so nervous around me?” He sat in the chair across from her, folding his hands underneath his chin.
She shrugged not knowing what to say. How could she tell him she had no experience in basic dating skills? She watched as he dished up his meal. He glanced up at her. “Spaghetti Bolognese. I figured it was the easier one to not mess up.”
She smiled taking the spoon and putting half of what he took on her plate.
“So, why all of this?” She pointed to the flowers and candles. “Something special coming up tonight?”
He shrugged like a school boy. “No, just something different I guess.”
She nodded.
“Let’s play a game,” he said quickly.
“A...game?” She looked up at him. She was sure Jensen Dean was not the kind of man who liked to play games.
“Come on, it will be fun.”
“What kind of game?”
‘It’s called twenty questions.”
“Sounds harmless enough.”
“I ask you a question and then you ask me. It can be pretty funny once you get going.”
Megan smiled trying to come up with a question for him.
“I’ll start,” he said taking a mouthful of spaghetti. He chewed half of it and stuffed the rest in his cheek before trying to talk. “What is the quirkiest thing you do as a daily ritual?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
“One you better answer truthfully,” he said, squinting his eyes.
“Okay, fine.” She thought for a moment. “When I use a towel, I have to shake it first.”
“What kind of towel?”
“Any kind. Used, clean, bath towel, hand towel, doesn’t matter.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Hey, you had your question. It’s my turn.”
“Okay fine.” He sipped his wine. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”
Megan hesitated and looked at him. Her eyes squinted and she smiled. “Your most embarrassing moment.”
“Oh, boy.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Okay. My most embarrassing moment has to be when my girlfriend, at the time, and I were in her parents’ house. We were alone and needed to shower. We just got done playing a game of soccer in the park and thought it best to shower separately. I went first and waited for her in her bedroom as she did so. Well, I grew bored,” he said looking up at her. “So I started probing around through her drawers. She had these adorable little pink thongs, all silky and sequins.” He covered his face and looked at Megan who was glued to his every word. “I can’t believe I am going to admit to this but…. I thought it would be funny to put them on and strut around in them as she came out of the bathroom.”
Megan covered her opened mouth in shock at what he was divulging.
“When I heard the shower turn off I started strutting around the room and when the door opened it wasn’t my girlfriend.”
“Oh, God! Who was it?”
“Her mother.”
Megan squealed and covered her mouth, laughing.
“Yeah, I thought it was going to scar me for life, you know, therapy and everything.”
“So, what happened?”
“We ended up breaking up. She was mortified that I could ever do something so heinous and her parents forbid me to see her anyway.”
“I would have been so embarrassed.”
“Well, I did have a little bit of a consolation prize.”
“Oh, yeah? And what was that?”
“When I saw her mother at the grocer’s two weeks later she couldn’t take her eyes off me. She seemed to follow me around the shop. At one point I thought she was going to approach me, but when I smiled at her she quickly turned around and scurried down the aisle away from me.”
Megan sat back and laughed hysterically. It felt good to laugh. It has been a long time.
“Okay, my turn.” He took a drink of his wine. “What is the worst thing you have ever eaten?”
“Is that an attempt at trying to see if I really like your cooking?” She laughed as she tried to think back on her life. “I’d have to say, besides your….”
“Hey!” He interrupted her. She laughed again.
“Once when I was around eight years old, my mother made this beef stew, which I actually loved. But there were these dumplings on the top of it that got soggy and completely grossed me out. When I tried to explain why I couldn’t eat them my father put me in a corner and told me I had to stay there until it was completely gone.” Her humor dissipated as she told the story. “I stood there for over an hour, holding my plate trying to figure out what to do. I tried eating them, but each time they made me physically sick to my stomach. My fingers went numb and I got really dizzy and passed out on the floor. My mother rushed to my side but my father made her keep the food on the floor until I came to. I had to clean it up and then go to bed.” She looked at him and twitched her mouth. “Sorry, it started out funny.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….” He changed the subject quickly. “Tell me about the book you were reading.”
“What book?” Her face got warm again as she thought about how the stories made her feel and how quickly the images of the dominating man turned into Jensen in her mind.
“The one you had on the floor in your room. It wasn’t the one you were reading.”
“It was…good. Not what I had expected.”
“Which book did you choose?”
“The Hitman.”
“So you were looking for something a little less sexual,” his voice hardened on his last word and he hesitated until she looked at him. “and something a little more drama?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you find?”
“It started out like that, you know…drama, murder. But it quickly changed.”
“Tell me what happened, Megan.”
She felt the familiar arousal deep within her as he asked about the book. He knew what it was about. Why was he asking her details? “I would rather talk about something else.”
“Do those stories make you feel a certain way?”
“Yes.” She was finding it a little harder to breathe.
“It isn’t anything you are used to is it?”
Megan shook her head, keeping her eyes on her plate.
“Did you enjoy the story?”
“So much so that I end up dream….” She took a big breath in and held it, realizing she almost admitted to the terribly erotic dreams she has been having about him. She got up quickly and scurried to the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” he called from the dining room.
She leaned up against the counter to regroup her thoughts. “Yes. Just getting the brownies I made this morning.”
She opened the cupboard and saw the pan nearly empty. She pulled the pan out and saw two small pieces in the corner. “Jensen Dean.” Her voice was commanding. She walked back into the dining room and dropped the pan on the table next to him. “Would you care to explain this?” she teased.
“What? What is that?” He looked over toward the pan as if it was the first time seeing it. “What did you make there?”
“Jensen….” She elongated his name as she said it.
“Okay, okay you caught me.” He put his head down in shame. “I’m a brownie junkie.” Megan laughed. “I have done so well at trying to hide it from you but then you went and made a batch and they were so delectable. I couldn’t stop eating them.” He turned toward her, grabbing the bottom of her shirt. He presses his forehead into her stomach and pretended to sob. “I need help. I need BA meetings.”
Megan couldn’t stop laughing. “BA meetings?”
“Brownies Anonymous.” He looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. “Help me?”
“I don’t think there is any help for you.” She scooped up the last two brownies, putting one on his plate and walking around the table to hers. “But just to show you that I am willing to try, I will promise not to make any more brownies for as long as I shall live.”
Jensen’s eyes grew wide and he stood up quickly. “Don’t you swear at me. You have to feed my addiction. As your boss, I demand that you make them at least once a week.”
“Oh, no, no. You’ll get as big as a house,” she teased.
“Then I’ll just have to spank you.”
Megan’s laugh stopped abruptly and she just looked at him. “What?” she said with a sobriety in her voice.
“Yep. If you go on strike from making probably the best brownies I have ever tasted, I am going to have to resort to violence and put you over my knee.”
An arousal stirred in Megan’s stomach. “Oh, you’re so funny,” she said awkwardly.
“But…” he said with a finger in the air. “If you continue to make them, I promise you an extra £20 each week.”
“You drive a hard bargain, and I think you are being a pig, but I will do it,” she smiled. “Now, give me a minute and I’ll make these last two pieces even better.” She picked up her plate and walked back around the table to get his.
“Is that possible?”
“Just give me a minute.” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with new plates, warm brownies and a side of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with cinnamon.
“Oh boy, you are spoiling me bad.” He dove into it and stuffed his mouth. Megan watched him, amused at how he keeps fit by eating that way. His face reminded her of a boy. A young child so enraptured with his dessert that nothing else could ever compare. She started to wonder if she was developing feelings for him. Was she falling for him? Whatever it was scared the hell out of her and she silently vowed to keep her distance. She was not going to have any sort of romantic relationship with him. It had to stay strictly professional. She took a small breath and then a bite of her dessert.