Chapter Eighteen
Molly
The smell of garlic and melted butter filled the entire kitchen. I inhaled the delicious fragrance as I finished peeling the last of the shrimp in the sink. Car lights filled the kitchen briefly as Alfie parked in front of the garage. I leaned over the kitchen sink to watch him slam his car door shut, his mood obviously sour as I had felt creeping in throughout the past few days.
I glanced over at the dining room table that I had set up with a nice garden salad and garlic bread. All I had left to do now was sauté the shrimp to put over the freshly boiled pasta. Nerves raced through me when the front door opened.
It was my last night in England, and while I didn’t want to be emotional, tears still burned my eyes and blurred my vision. Even if my wedding had been called off, I still found myself enjoying the remaining weeks in Alfie’s company.
The only problem was that I couldn’t interpret his strange moods either. Neither one of us ever directly discussed what we wanted from each other. I was never the type of woman to stress labels when it came to relationships, but I had a gut feeling that Alfie’s torn demeanor had something to do with the passion building between us. He looked at me with a mixture of fervor and passion before going cool and distant.
I took a gulp of wine to ease my nerves right as Alfie walked in through the kitchen door with a curious frown. His eyes swept across the dining room table to where I stood in front of the kitchen sink with a pile of uncooked shrimp on a cutting board. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, but I could see something there that was too fleeting for me to interpret.
“What are you doing?” Alfie asked and breathed in deeply.
“Cooking you dinner,” I said, and reached for the bottle of wine on the counter. I waved it questioningly at him. “I thought I could return the offer since you’ve let me stay here for free. I never really made you a real meal besides getting food around Devon. You’ve had all of that before. I figured I’d make you something homemade. A proper meal, if you will.”
He smiled and walked toward me, his presence causing my heart to swell. Fuck me. I was falling in love with him.
“It smells good, and I’m starving if I’m being honest. I forgot to eat lunch today with all the drama going on at the office.” He moved up beside me and touched the small of my back as he gazed down into the pan of butter. “I never can get this dish right. I always overcook the shrimp.”
“It takes a little bit of practice, but just relax tonight. I got this.” I gave him a cheeky grin, loving how quickly his mood seemed to settle just by being home. Or maybe it was because I was there? I didn’t know, but part of me wanted to pretend it was the latter for sure.
“Sounds good to me.” He nodded and slipped out of his jacket to drape it across the back of a chair. I poured him a hefty glass of wine while I watched him loosen his tie with a weary sigh.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the glass with a relieved smile. “I didn’t realize you liked to cook, and you must really like it. Shrimp scampi has to be one of the hardest dishes ever.”
“It is a bit tricky, but it’s one of the dishes my grandmother taught me to cook. She always told me that it was the best dating dish I could make,” I admitted with a nervous laugh.
“Dating dishes?” He took a long drink from his wine and smiled.
“Yeah. You know…if you wanted to impress someone who you were dating, you make this dish.” I shrugged and realized how badly the conversation was headed in a direction that neither of us wanted it to go. Shit. “I made it tonight because I know it well, and I thought you might like it.”
Alfie took a seat at one of the kitchen bar stools with a sigh. “I’ll hold my critiques until the end then.” He gave me a warm smile that let me know he wasn’t going to have a complaint. He was just happy to have dinner waiting on him. It would have been almost too easy to just stay in Europe and continue to play house with him.
“That might be wise, mister.” I wagged my eyebrows and turned back to the stove.
“What did you do today for your last day in London?” I could hear the weariness in his voice. Was entertaining me taking it out of him, or was it simply work related? Was he like this all of the time? Bone-tired?
“I went to town to look around,” I said. A pang of sadness went through me. “I just went around trying to remember everything.”
“I see.” His voice was no more than a whisper. “Well, I do believe that your day might have been better than mine. I showed my ass about ten times and finally left. I just got so pissed thanks to this marketing issue.”
“You know that I could help with that, Alfie.” I glanced over my shoulder before turning back and dumping the shrimp into the pan. I coated them in the butter as we sat in silence and waited until they were a nice pink to plate them. I turned and carried the plate to the table as he eyed me.
“I know. I just don’t want to burden you, Mol. You’re leaving tomorrow, and you have plenty to worry about. Let’s talk about something else. My company has been around forever, and the same people who worked out the last brilliant launch will figure this one out too.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I just pray they do it before I kill them all.”
I chuckled and reached for his plate, dishing up a little bit of everything before doing the same for myself and sitting down. I let out a content sigh and picked up my fork. “Bon appétit!”
“Yes.” He breathed in deeply and set his wine down. “This smells so damn good. Knowing you made it has me a little turned on, if I’m being honest.”
“Only a little?” I laughed and took a bite. The warm goodness of the butter filled my mouth, and I let out a soft moan.
His eyebrow lifted as he held his fork in midair. “Okay, a few more of those sweet moans, and it’ll be a lot.”
“I might let a few out just to tease you.” I spun my fork around and lifted it again as he closed his eyes and let out a moan of his own. The sound of it rushed across my skin and left me struggling to breathe. The man was everything I wanted in my bed and my life.
“So, tell me about you looking for a new job in New York.” He set his fork down and wiped his mouth with the napkin from his lap. “Are you hoping to go back to the same job, or try for something new?”
“I’m not sure.” I reached for my wine. “My old boss, Gary would probably be thrilled to see me come through the door, but it wouldn’t be to reinstate me as head of marketing for them. It would be to say, ‘I told you so.’ He was quite adamant that I was making a huge mistake chasing after an Englishman.” I gave him a cheeky smile.
He chuckled. “We are all a bit rubbish for sure.”
“I’m not sure I believe that anymore.” I took a sip of my wine and locked eyes with him. There was a neediness in his gaze that had my body on fire. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was the same desire echoed in my own eyes as he watched me ever so closely. “Anyway, he wouldn’t give me the position back. They’ve filled it for sure at this point.”
“So you’ll be looking for something new?”
“Yeah. I believe so.” I leaned back and nibbled on a piece of garlic bread.
“Have you thought about going into consulting instead of signing up to work with a big firm? It might present a better opportunity to you. It would allow you to do what you love doing, but give you some freedom to travel and set your own schedule.” He licked at his lips subtly. “I’d do it for sure if I didn’t own this big company.”
“I like the sound of that, though it does present a bit of uncertainty in my life. I’m thinking stability sounds better.” I smiled as he nodded.
“I get that too.” He leaned back and picked up his wine glass. “I have to say that this is, by far, the best shrimp scampi that I’d ever had. You, my dear, are a world class chef. Maybe you should look at a second career instead of going back to the one you left.”
Heat raced up my neck and coated my cheeks. “Well, thank you very much, but chefs work nonstop. I’m not interested in that lifestyle either.”
“Then something in the middle, perhaps?” He stood and stretched, his bowl clean and plate empty.
“Yeah, like my old job.” I chuckled and got up as he started to clear the dishes from the table. “I am looking forward to seeing Peyton. We were pretty inseparable before I left to come over here. It’s weird having someone in your life every day and then not seeing them.”
“I understand that.” He moved to the sink and turned it on before rolling his sleeves up. Something about watching a billionaire wash dishes sat funny on me, but Alfie wasn’t pretentious at all. Or maybe, like me, he was just looking for something to keep him busy. It would be better than staring at each other and thinking about the fact that it was our last night together. “I told you about my friend, Logan. Our relationship sounds like yours and Peyton’s.”
“He’s in New York?” I scrapped some of the dishes and moved over beside him. I took a chance and pressed a kiss to the side of his shoulder, glancing up as he looked down at me.
“Yeah, he is.” He smiled. “Did I do something to deserve a kiss? I do believe you’re the one who cooked dinner.”
“I don’t believe in having to earn kisses.” I reached up and rubbed his chest. “I know we’re avoiding the subject of us, and I’m good with it, but I need you to know that I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Are we avoiding it?” He turned off the water and turned to face me, pulling me flush against him. His hands felt so fucking good gripping the top of my ass. “I think we should talk about it. There’s nothing I want to hide from you about how I feel.”
“No? Maybe I’m the one who wants to hide.” I pulled him down for a long, hot kiss. My insides melted, and I knew I was making a mistake in going back to the States. Happiness was in this relationship, and I was running away from one of the best ones I might ever have.
The doorbell rang, surprising us both. I moved back as he held up a finger.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He winked and turned, walking into the foyer. I poked my head through the door to see an older man in a business suit. Someone he worked with?
Alfie welcomed the man and glanced over to me. “I’ll be a little while. Leave the dishes for the maid. Seriously.”
I nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, cleaning it as I thought through the marketing issue Alfie was dealing with. Where I didn’t know the exact details, I’d heard bits and pieces enough to think that I might have a solution.
After piddling for a while, I went upstairs and took a hot bath, imagining how good it was going to feel to have him pin me to the bed. Surely he was going to make love to me on our last planned night together.
I crawled into bed, my body hot and wet at the images racing through my head. The covers were chilled, and the room cold. Before too long, my eyelids fluttered closed, and my lusty needs were taken care of in my dreams.