Chapter One Hundred–Thirty–Six
FELIN
Control your breathing. Felly! Do NOT act like a weirdo,
But……. my face feels like it’s filling with blond. I can feel it rushing up from under my chin. It’s making my tongue thick, and my jaw ache. Now is not an ideal time for me to use my feet. Because he is still staring at me and if he watches me walk toward him, I will undoubtedly walk crooked! Just look somewhere else!
And… I’ve ne
never kissed anyone 1 liked before. Not ever. Or come on, Felt He’s probably not even trying to kiss you!
He sighs heavily, tipping his head back and chuckling at the ceiling. “Come on,” he chortles, with his head tipped back.
“Alright!‘ 1 snap, walking slowly around the counter and into the kitchen, just to stand there awkward as fuck
He grins, tipping his head back down and his back off of the fridge. He simply stares at me, slowly losing his smile as his eyes travel down my body.
“Now that I’m here,” I remind him. “Just like you asked me to be. What am I doing… here?”
He starts laughing again, this time quite a bit harder and now I’m wondering if he’s laughing with me or at me? Like… what if he’s getting a kick out of pretending that be… that he what, Felix? He never said he is interested in you.
Almost too suddenly, his laughter cuts out and he reaches out his hand, Come on, come here.”
Releasing a breath of air, I cock up a suspicious eyebrow and step closer, allowing him to take my hand. He smiles brilliantly, then with one swift bug he pulls me in front of him, turning me so that I am now facing the cutting board and his vegetables.
But… he’s standing so close behind me that I can feel his face against my hair. And… he’s holding both of my wrists so gently that it almost feels like he’s stroking them.
“We’re going to make dinner.” he says softly, his lips so close that I can smell the mint of his breath. “Do you know how to cut vegetables?
1 snicker, “Unfortunately,”
He laughs shortly, the sound dark and undeniably male. “Okay. Then st
step up to the plate.”
I step forward, feeling somewhat like an idiot as he steps with me, his hands still on my wrists. I eye the ingredients on the counter and they are just a little weird. Potatoes, sweet peppers, com on the cob, onion, carrots, and radish
“What are we making?” I ask, grabbing the knife to pick up where he left off and slice the potatoes.
“Hmm?” he murmurs absently. “Uh…”
His hands rest on
on the counter now. One on each side of me. I have no idea what exactly he is doing while I ans slicing, but whatever it is,
“What are we cooking? ask again, laughing.
He chuckles, “Honestly? I don’t know. I didn’t really have a plan beyond this part.”
This part? I tense a bit, my face heating again, but I continue to slice the potatoes faithfully. “Is there any chicken in the fridge? And maybe… rice? We can make Chicken a la King.”
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Chapter One Hundred–Thirty–Six
“Let me see,” he says, turning around.
The moment he is gone my body damn near panics. It felt really nice hiving him near me like that. What if he grates the ingredients and decides to do something else? Like… stand somewhere else? Felix… really?
I finish the potatoes and toss them in a bowl, covering them in hot water before setting them aside. Then I start on the carrots.
“We have boneless chicken thighs and jasmine rice,” he says walking back toward me.
“That’s perfect,” I say.
“Is there anything that you
you need me to do while you chop those?”
Hino. You could be topless… “Chop the chicken into strips and get a scop pot boiling with about four quarts of water in it. And if you want, you can start the rice too. Great job, Fell Wish granted. Now he will be standing somewhere else, Damn.
“Yes ma’am,” he says, closing his hands over each side of my waist and squeezing me playfully. His fingers come away so slowly that I could swear they stroke, rather than slide off Get a grip. Your’re like a twelve year old.
I shake myself and continue to chop as I listen to him cut chicken in such a way that forces me to turn around. He is slicing through every piece with absolute precision, and if he were any faster at it I might think he wasn’t human. The muscles of his arms flex and shift as he deftly butchers each and every piece. Before I know it, he’s done and I’m… hot. He looks over at me, with something like a hidden smile on
his face.
what’s next?” he grins.
I bite my lip, when I notice him staring at it and I could swear he makes a sound. “Rinse the chicken and then throw it in the pot. Don’t forget to add garlic salt!”
“Okay,” he says.
Smiling like a fool I turn back around. Compared to him, I am way behind. I don’t possess and super ninja knife skills and I’m still on carrots. When I finally finish them, I grab for the onion, knowing this is about to be a mess. Shit. At least I don’t have any make–up on.
“Wait a minute,” he says from over my shoulder. “Why don’t you let me do this one? I don’t want to you to cut yourself because you’ve been blinded by the onion.”
I nod my agreement, preparing to step back, but his arms come around me like before and his body presses into me from behind. When he begins cutting, it’s just like with the chicken. Every single stroke he takes with the knife is perfectly executed. And every single time he flexes his arms, 1 feel them around me. Sweet Jesus.
“Is the onion getting to you?” he asks. “Just turn your face into my shoulder. Right into my shirt.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. And my eyes aren’t bothering me, but I do. Turning my head, I press into his shirt and suddenly I’m overcome with the delicious scent of vanilla boubon. It smells so delightful that I think I hear myself moan. A minute later, my head is still turned away and he’s not moving. At.. all.
“Oh,” I giggle, tuming back toward the cutting board. “I didn’t realize you were done.”
He nods, his arms frozen for a long quiet moment. Clearing throat, he dips his nose into my hair by my ear and asks, “Is that all the vegetables?” And 1 feel the slightest touch of his lips as they trace over the shell of my ear,
“Yes,” answer softly. But I wish there were more!
Get to it then,” he whispers, his arms closing around me for a quick, incredibly tight and delicious hug. When he lets go, he steps the kitchen with a smirk and says, “The sun is about to go down. I’m going to jump in the water right quick.”
s out of
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Chapter One Hundred–Thirty–Six
My jaw slams open. “But the water is freezing right now, int
He laughs, shaking his head. “Not for me. Don’t worry,” he says, his smile faltering just digtly I’m g
I nod, fascinated as I watch him walk out on the deck. Working as quicidy
butter, spices, a little flour. Then I close the lid and practically race ovlade whe
as I am. But checking over the sides of the rails… and I dont see him.
What the hell?
I lean farther and farther over, but nothing. I can’t even hear anyone splashing Oh my God
“Oh my God is right,” I hear him say behind me. “Praise the lord.”
Turning around, I release a breath of relief and his eyes suddenly raise up froen whatever he was looking it. Think God. Seetões find
you.”
He is shirtless, wearing only swim trunks finally, and his body… every single delicions groove of it is witty ages ca
away from his abs… there are… well… quite a few more than I ever thought possible to have,
time I try to drag my eyes any higher than his neck, they rake back downward as if compet
I shake myself, clearing my throat. “Are those like a requirement for being the Sheriff?”
He smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Those? What
I walk toward him, fully aware that I need to check on the food. Feeling little more confident than before, I slap my hand far over his abs as I walk into the yacht and say, “These.” God those felt magnificent
He chuckles and I can feel him directly behind me as I head for the pot to give
“Should be ready soon,” I say, backing toward the counter as he walks toward me
“What now?”
Suddenly, he’s extremely quiet, and I wonder if I did something wrong. However, the intensity in his eyes But why isn’t he talking? What is he thinking about?
“Margaritas?” I suggest, carefully.
At first, he rolls his eyes,
s, but then face breaks out in a grin. “Yeah, I’ll take one.”
“Perfect!” I say happily.
Five minutes later we are both on our third margaritas when he suddenly swipes before chasing it back with the last of his margarita.
“Whoa,” I snicker, already buzzing. That’s not gonna be good.”
Again he flashes me his smile, his eyes lighting over
me as he licks his lips.
ma says I haven
tequila bottle and downs a really good amount
Um…okay.
He reaches toward me and snatches my glass, placing it on the counter at his back. Then he turns around and drops himself o Still too quiet. I step into the kitchen and tum off the burners so that the food can cool and then turn back around and
Holy shit!
