188
Lucy
We walked in silence for a little while. The air felt alive with something I couldn’t name. Being this close to David was doing crazy things to my insides.
We reached the dining room and found only Duke there and no one else.
“Blue?” David asked.
She poked her head out of another doorway. “You said you wanted to cook tonight.”
He huffed. “I forgot, but Lucy--”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly. “I can—”
“Sounds like you have a culinary audience,” Blue said and darted away.
David shook his head and looked at me with an apologetic smile before looking back at Blue.
“Blue, you can’t just—”
“Ready?” Amos asked, coming up behind us.
“Yep,” Duke said, getting up from the table with a grin. Hito, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow as if curious about the sudden change in atmosphere.
“And where are you all going?” David asked.
“Out,” Blue said, coming back with a purse on her arm. “Kitchen’s all yours.”
“Wait a second—“
“Let’s go,” Hito said. "We have to expand your palette in time for the Crescent Moon Festival. I can’t have my apprentice embarrassing me.”
Duke rounded the table. “Sure thing.”
“You didn’t cook anything?” David asked, eyeing Blue.
She smiled. “We planned to go out tonight.”
David’s expression looked like he didn’t believe any of them. They were all grinning. Amos swept Blue into his arms.
“Let’s get going before we miss our reservation.”
“You hate reservations!” David yelled. “You are the worst. Where’s Trent?”
“Out with friends,” Blue shrugged and glided past.
She caught my eye and winked. “Don’t worry about making a mess. Have fun.”
I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. It seemed my attempt to keep Duke with us had backfired spectacularly. Before I could say anything else, they were all gone, and the whole house was quiet. It was like everyone had left for the evening.
I bit my lip and looked up at David as he shook his head.
“Just wait until they get back…” His cheeks were flushed, too, and he sighed.
He took my hand gently.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to eat alone with me,” he said. “I can take you back to the White Moon Estate if you—“
“No,” I said and ducked my head. “I… I don’t want to. E-Eating with you is fine.”
The moment seemed to stretch out forever before he smiled and gestured ahead of him.
“Well, we should head to the kitchen, hm? Culinary audience?”
I laughed a little and followed him down the hall through the large kitchen that looked like it was used to feed a whole army. We went through another corridor until we reached a much smaller kitchen. The kitchen was cozy, filled with warm lighting and a comfortable ambiance. As we entered, I couldn't help but admire the setup – the gleaming countertops, the neatly arranged utensils, and the enticing aroma of various spices that hung in the air. It was an intimate space, one that felt like a world of our own.
“Why do you have multiple kitchens?”
“Because sometimes I like to eat tacos, and Blue may refuse to make them.”
I laughed. “Are we having tacos tonight?”
“No,” he grinned. “You’ll have to come back for that.”
I bit my lip at the thought. His eyes still hadn’t stopped glowing as he went to the refrigerator. I wasn’t great in the kitchen, but I was intrigued by the idea of preparing a meal together, and the prospect of spending more time with him was definitely appealing.
“I can cut things,” I said. “But… I’m not much of a cook.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll teach you.”
He gave me the apron he usually wore, wrapping it around my waist in a way that made me shiver before darting around the kitchen. He took off his suit jacket and dress shirt, leaving him in just his undershirt. I tried not to stare as he wrapped an apron around his waist, and his muscles rippled.
David moved with practiced ease, retrieving ingredients and laying them out on the counter. I watched him, struck by how effortlessly he navigated the kitchen. It was clear that he was in his element here, a side of him I had only really glimpsed when we were at Sea Shell Cove.
"Have you ever made spaghetti from scratch?" he asked, glancing over at me with a playful smile.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "I haven’t even made spaghetti out of a can.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I hope you never have to. A jar, at least, please.”
David's smile widened, and he gestured toward the various ingredients. "Then today, you're in for a treat. I made pasta a few days ago, so we’ll make the sauce today. It’s almost a labor of love, but the end result is worth every effort."
As he began explaining the process, I joined him at the counter. Before I had even started cutting, he stopped me.
“Not like that,” he said gently, taking my hand and standing closer. “You’ll take your whole hand off.”
David took my hand and curled it firmly around the handle of the knife before showing me how to hold my other hand to keep the onion on track to be chopped. His hands were so warm. His voice was soft in my ear. It was a little hard to focus. I turned my head as the scent of his cologne hit my nose, a soft, spicy, musky scent that drew me in.
“Lucy?”
I looked up, meeting his gaze. The glow had taken over his eyes. The moment stretched out until I was practically breathless.
“Never…” he whispered, his breath ghosted over my face. “Look away when you’re cutting.”
I turned back, nodding. “Right. Sorry.”
“Think you’ve got it?”
“Y-Yeah. I’ve got it.”
He backed away from me, but it felt like he didn’t want to. Then, we fell into rhythm. I tried to focus on the chopping, but it was hard.
“What made you start cooking?” I asked as he popped open a bottle of red wine and set it on the counter. “Wine?”
“It goes in the sauce and, at first, necessity. Blue had to sleep, and I was a sleepless kid. She taught me a few things, so I wouldn’t just eat all the crackers or whatever, and then I branched out.” His lips twitched. “I was told one night that my mom and dad would cook together before she died, so sometimes he’d join me.”
I nodded. “You have a lot of memories in this house.”
He nodded and filled a pot. “Mostly good ones… Bittersweet, too.”
He pulled out a pan, washed some tomatoes, and set them in the pan. I had no idea what he was doing, but I didn’t ask, focusing on chopping the fresh herbs he left me with. David's hands were confident and sure, and I found myself entranced by the way he moved, the way he seemed so at ease in the kitchen.
Soon enough, he was offering me a taste of the pasta sauce.
“It’s so good… Did I really help make that?”
He laughed. “You really did.”
With the pasta cooked to perfection, we plated our creation and sat down at a small table near the window. The night outside was alive with twinkling stars, and the scene felt like something out of a romance movie.
I took a bite, savoring the flavors that exploded on my taste buds.
"This is amazing. I can’t believe you made pasta. Aren’t you too busy?"
“Kneading dough is stress relief in some ways.” David grinned, his eyes warm as they met mine. "I'm glad you like it."
We chatted and ate like we were on a date. I did my best not to look at him for too long in case he would see that was what was on my mind, but he never seemed to look away from me. I found myself stealing glances at David.
“You have room for dessert?” He asked. “It’s chocolate.”
“Yes, please!”
He chuckled and took our plates and put them in the dishwasher before going to the fridge. He pulled out two bowls and set one in front of me before offering me a spoon. I took a bite and hummed at the rich taste of the chocolate mousse. I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. I couldn’t help but think that I could look forward to so many more evenings like this.
As we finished our dessert, David leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on me. "Thoughts?”
“Ten out of ten,” I said. “I could probably eat at least four of those.”
He laughed. “I’ll have to send some home with you.”
He stood and took the bowls to the dishwasher before taking off his apron.
"Lucy, are you comfortable staying here for a little longer, or would you like me to take you back to the White Moon Pack Estate?"
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