for me?” she asked.
“Of course. Only the best for
you.” He kept hold of her hand, leading her down to his kitchen. Paul
had a nicely fitted kitchen. Rachel recalled helping him redecorate the place
with all up to date furniture and appliances.
“It smells delicious. It has been
years since I’ve had some.” She walked over to the stove, took the lid off the
simmering pot and inhaled. The sweet onion and garlic scents met her, making
her moan.
She smiled remembering the first
time he’d made the recipe. Paul was a huge fan of meatballs, but he hated
always having to order them in. For literally months he tested so many recipes
until he found the right one. The memories of eating some of his disasters were
fond memories.
Paul took her hand and led her to a
candlelit table for two.
“Okay, now I feel underdressed,” she
said. The old nerves started to return.
“You’re not. This isn’t some fancy
restaurant food, baby. This is just you and me, and I want us both to be
comfortable.”
He poured her a glass of wine. She accepted
without any argument. Paul helped her into her seat and then made his way over
to the stove.
“So, any home-made pasta to go with
it?” she asked.
“Not today. I’m afraid it’s out of a
packet. Everything else is my own.”
She sipped some of her red wine and
winced. Over the years she’d never developed a taste for wine.
“This is strange,” she said,
watching his nice ass as he moved around the kitchen. His muscles rippled with
each movement.
“Why?”
“I’ve never had a man cook for me
before. Even Mitch doesn’t like making his way around the kitchen. Everything
is a sandwich or ordering a pizza. Let me tell you, ham and pineapple pizza can
get old fast.”
He chuckled. “Mitch is mean with a
phone. He can order pizza faster than I can.”
She watched him grab the saucepan
and drain the pasta. Rachel liked being waited on, and
she found it fascinating to watch.
A few minutes later he walked to the
table with two plates loaded with spaghetti and meatballs. Rachel laughed at
the size of the meal. “You haven’t eaten either?”
“No, it’s been a long day.” He
handed her a fork and then took the seat next to her. She was shocked when he
reached for her hand.
They sat together, eating and
holding hands. Her heart raced from the small intimate touch.
“Well, how does it taste?” he asked.
Scooping up a meatball and twirling
her fork in some spaghetti, Rachel took a huge bite. Flavours exploded on her tongue.
“This is pure heaven,” she said,
scooping more food onto her fork. He laughed.
“I certainly love a woman with a
healthy appetite.”
“Well, you better get used to it. I
love my food, and I’m more than happy to be waited on.”
She burst out laughing as he held
his hands up.
“Baby, I can do meatballs and pasta,
but anything else and you’re on your own.”
He took her hand once again, and she
dug in with relish.
“It’s the only thing I can cook,” he
said, breaking into the silence.
“No, it’s the only thing you’ve ever
tried to cook. I bet you’d be one hell of a cook if you put your mind to it,”
she said.
“What’s wrong with living on a diet
of meatballs and pasta?”
Shaking her head, Rachel finished
her food. She was so hungry, and he really did know how to make this dish.
“Darren knows about us,” Paul said.
Pausing in her eating Rachel glanced
over to him. “I thought you didn’t want to say anything?”
“Erm, I didn’t exactly tell him.”
She frowned. “You better tell me
what’s going on.”
“Tracy came to the garage today and
was pretty much inviting me over for a booty call.”
Rachel listened to him talking while
trying to keep her anger in check. Tracy was a bitch and slept with anything
that walked. Also, Tracy liked to gossip. Rachel listened to what the other
woman had to say, but she hated listening.
“One thing led to another, and
Darren figured out who you