The kitchen takes my breath away. Elegant marble countertops and a double oven. His old kitchen is nothing like this. The equipment is something one would see in a New York steakhouse with the best bakery in the world attached. A pitch-black eight burner stove sits atop the white marble, contrasting perfectly. Brand new mixers and all kinds of baking equipment line the countertops, adorned with dainty red bows.
Our room is modern, and the simplistic decor makes the space look refreshing and clean.
Tears flow down my face in sheets.
Aiden wraps his arms around my neck and kisses it. “I wanted to make it perfect for you.”
With a wide smile, I turn and throw my arms around his neck. Melting in his gesture, in his embrace, in everything he is.
“I’ll send you and Howard shopping for some art pieces, or whatever you like.” He blushes slightly, gesturing to the few canvases that are on the walls. I admire the paintings, brushing my fingers over the rough surfaces of each one.
I remind myself he’s never done this before, neither have I. But for him, he isn’t used to showing a softer side of himself to anyone but me. “Everything is perfect, and this art is amazing! Where did you get it?”
A dimpled smile blooms on his face. “Came with the place.” He shrugs, “and I want your touch on it.”
I smile. I guess this is it. We’re officially moving in together. It’s not like I haven’t been living with him, but this seems more stable, like this is for us. I haven’t given much thought to looking for apartments with Ash. We mentioned it in passing, but she’s content staying with Ricky. More than content, she’s elated.
Aiden leads me up a set of familiar steps. A heavy metal door opens to reveal an even more breathtaking view. We are so high up the stars look closer than ever.
“Look there.” Aiden gestures to a corner.
That’s when I see a bed situated in a perfect position to look at the night sky.
Tangled and full of passion, that is where we sleep on our first night in our new home.
Well, not much sleep.
∞∞∞
I loved every ounce of Brazil, but the looming threat of Thomas getting released has me on edge. He won’t come for me; it’s not that kind of fear. He’s nothing more than a drunk, who has no life in or out of prison. But he deserves to stay in prison.
How can they let him out on good behavior after murdering a decorated officer?
The thought haunts me as I get ready for work. I already have an appointment with the corrections facility for next week. I need to ignore that until it’s right in front of me.
Back at work, I try to focus on the task at hand and the positives, clearing my head of the troubles stirring inside. We’re safe; our new home is more than I could ever ask for, I just got back from a brilliant vacation and now I get to go work in a kitchen that is stocked to the brim with all new appliances.
I arrive at work to see Avery turning on the ovens. “Wow.”
Avery walks towards me, wiping his hands on a towel. “Wow is right.” He looks me over and smirks. “You got tan.”
“My boyfriend took me to Brazil.” I smile brightly.
“Boyfriend?” He half laughs as he walks over to me, his face serious.
“Yes?” I gesture around the room. “I really love the new equipment!” Why would he laugh about me having a boyfriend?
His smile returns. “It’s wonderful! They work perfectly. I’ve been prepping the space to teach you how to make my favorite. Éclairs.”
I squeal. These lessons will give me a skill I’ll utilize throughout my life.
Avery guides me to a table where a plate of freshly made éclairs sits. “First, we will taste some I made this morning so you can get the flavor profile.”
I take a large bite of one with a moan while Avery watches me with satisfaction. “So good!” The made from scratch ingredients change the game.
“Come, here’s your station.” He gestures to a steel top filled with ingredients. “Get started on the dough, while I start on the chocolate. I know you already know how to melt it down.” He smiles as he makes his way to the burners.
I wash my hands vigorously and get to work. I gasp when his body presses against my back as I roll the dough. I go to move but he pushes in.
“In France, we let the wrist do all the work and the hands are just helpers,” He whispers quietly into my hair. He brings his hands into mine as he kneads the dough with me. It begins to form better.
“Oh, so I just need a little more elbow grease,” I mumble in an uncomfortable tone as I try to wiggle out. I like that he’s a hands-on teacher, so I can learn better. But he doesn’t need to have his body against mine.
“You’re so good at this.” He murmurs in a low voice as he leans further in. “A natural.” His voice is breathy.
To my disgust, something hard press into my back. I gasp and turn quickly. His hands are on the counter when I face him. He’s holding me in. Trapping me. I look around Avery’s shoulder, desperate to find an escape. “Excuse me.”
A sly grin adorns his face. He tilts his head, studying me. “Don’t move. There’s so much more my hands can teach you.” He smirks.
My stomach drops and I shake my head. “I think I’ve had enough for today. This is wildly inappropriate. I have a boyfriend.” I remind him with a stern, and mildly shaky voice.
He chuckles. “Your little boyfriend isn’t here though, is he? I’m sure I can show you a better time.” I almost laugh at his audacity
