Page 15

SUFFERING FROM BIG FEELINGS

I slid the knot up to my neck, making sure my tie lay flat on my chest. I had to borrow one of Dad’s jackets from Mom.

The request brought on a slew of questions.

She wouldn’t relent until I told her it was for a date.

Instead of replying, she pulled every jacket from the closet, determined to help me make a good first impression.

To prevent more questions, I skipped telling her it was with Simon.

It had only been two days since our night at the quarry. I hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Yes, the sex was amazing, but it was the kiss goodnight as I dropped him off that lingered.

I ran my hands through my hair, giving myself one last check before I knocked on his front door.

I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. This time, I had broken out the nicest slacks I owned.

Heck, I had gone to the store and bought myself a fresh pair of skivvies to step up my game.

This time, when we went out, we wouldn’t look like mismatched strangers.

I straightened my back as I heard heavy footsteps heading toward the door. When he threw the door open, my jaw nearly dropped.

“What the hell?”

The side of Simon’s face was almost entirely white.

He wore a t-shirt with an apron hanging from his neck.

It didn’t seem to do a great job of keeping him clean.

This is what I imagined him looking like after a long day in the kitchen.

It was not, however, what I thought he’d look like for date night.

“Wait…” He gave me the once over. “Did you dress up for me?” When I didn’t answer, he grabbed me by the tie and pulled me inside. “That’s sweet.”

His other hand had a red oven mitt as if I had interrupted mid-cook. He took care to not cover me with flour as he leaned in for a kiss. With a single quick peck, all had been forgiven.

“We need to work on our communication.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You’re looking mighty fine to me.”

I wanted to ask if I had come too early? Did he need to hop in the shower before we headed out? I was far too dressed up for any place in Firefly. If the locals saw me out in a suit and tie, I’d never hear the end of it.

I sniffed the air. “It smells delicious in here.”

His eyes widened before booking it through the house. For a big guy, he moved with haste when motivated. “I was in the middle of baking bread.” He let out a whistle. “Good, it didn’t burn.”

His house opened into the dining room, with a hallway leading to the kitchen. There were boxes sitting on the dining room table. Peaking inside, I spotted dozens of cookbooks. “What did I expect?”

When I reached the living room, I paused at a bookcase. He hadn’t filled it with books. Instead, it held photos of him and Lucas. It warmed my heart to see him holding a newborn. His expression could only be described as unabashed love. There were photos of Lucas everywhere, just as I imagined.

I leaned forward to see a photo of Simon and a woman giving Lucas a hug.

This must be the elusive ex-wife. The woman wasn’t just beautiful; she could have been a model.

In the photo, she wore green scrubs, suggesting she might work in the medical field.

I didn’t want to pry, but I was curious about his former partner.

“Lucy,” he said, as if he read my mind. He still had an oven mitt on his hand as he picked it up. “This was Lucas’ sixth birthday.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey.” Yes, I did.

He ran a hand over my back. “It’s not a secret. We ended on a good note. Lucas had a blast at the park that day. We threw him a birthday party, and I grilled burgers. He damned near tuckered me out.”

Did he know that when he talked about his son he always had a half-smile? Simon didn’t have to use words like love or pride. It radiated. This was a proud poppa bear. I’m sure it was the tip of the iceberg, but I could understand why he wanted more quality time with his son.

“That was the day she told me she was leaving again to do relief work in Ghana.” His tone changed as he set the photo down. “Lucy is a real-life superhero. She worked in Mass General for years, but she wanted to do more. I supported the first stint in Tanzania. We made it work. But…”

I wrapped my arm around him.

“At first, I thought not having his mom around explained Lucas’ trouble with school. We struggled when he got diagnosed with autism. Boy, did we have a lot to learn. He needed us, and she chose Ghana over him.” I could hear the disappointment slip into his voice. “So here I am, a single dad.”

I didn’t know what to say. His words weren’t laced with sadness or anger. He spoke as if they were simple facts and not a decision that upended their lives. When in doubt, affection. I hugged him.

“How can I be mad when she’s saving the whole world?” That he even asked suggested he wasn’t thrilled with her decision. He kissed my forehead. “But enough of that, we have cooking to do.”

“I’m not sure we should be allowed in the kitchen. I can’t cook a microwave dinner.”

He took me by the hand and dragged me into the kitchen. I had expected this grand space with steel appliances and multiple sinks. As a big-city chef, he struck me as out of place in the farmhouse aesthetic. If anything, this was more to my mom’s liking.

“I made the bread. You’ll be cooking the scallops.”

“Have we met? Do you have a fire extinguisher?”

On a butcher block cutting board, he had scallops strewn across a paper towel. It took a moment before I realized he wasn’t joking. The success of our night depended on me not setting his house ablaze and ruining dinner. This didn’t bode well.

“Then it’s a good thing you have such a handsome teacher.” He reached under the counter and pulled out an apron. As he unrolled it, he slid it over my head. He spun me about, tying off the back.

I was about to continue my protesting when I looked down at the gray material and the red stitching.

“Sous Chef Cowan.” I… I ran through a list of gifts from exes.

None of them had gone out of their way to invite me into their world.

Even if the night ended in an inferno, it already went down in history as my best date.

“With a little work, you’ll get promoted to chef.” He gave me a quick slap on the ass. “Now, let’s get to work before I fire you.”

He pushed me in front of the counter, standing behind me with hands on my waist. I wished we were in nothing but aprons. If he kept kissing the back of my neck, we’d be starting the meal with dessert.

“We’re going to cook a classic scallop. When they’re this fresh, we don’t need anything fancy. I’ve already patted them dry. Next, we have to salt them.”

He slid a ramekin closer to the cutting board filled with white granules. I took a pinch of salt.

“More.”

Bigger pinch.

“More.”

Even bigger pinch. I held my fingers just above the first scallop when he raised my hand a foot above the seafood.

“Sprinkle while going back and forth. This evens out the salt.” Then he slid the pepper grinder in front of me.

“Same thing. But we just want a light dusting.” I followed his instructions. “Now flip and repeat.”

I did as he said. So far, I hadn’t destroyed dinner. Maybe I’d be a comic book store owner by day and a pop-up restaurateur by evening? If it meant this sexy bear rubbed up against my back, I’d be making us dinner on the regular.

“Now comes the cooking.”

Oh, okay. I aced not destroying dinner during the prep. Now we had to see if I could survive actual fire. He guided me in front of the stove. His pans gave away his occupation. I’m pretty sure I bought mine from the grocery store. These cost more than my truck.

“Butter first.”

“How did you learn this?”

He swayed behind me, forcing my body to move with his.

“I worked as a dishwasher in high school. One day, we were short-staffed, and I had to wait tables. I broke three plates. But I watched this elderly couple sharing a plate of pasta. They didn’t speak while they ate.

Instead, they just smiled at one another while they enjoyed their food. ”

He put a scallop in my hand. “We’re going to do one to start. Put it on the side so we can slosh it around in the butter.” I’m glad he gave instructions, or I would have dumped them all in at once.

When it hit the pan, it sizzled. He took my hand, wrapping it around the handle. Tipping it to the side, I watched as the butter splashed over the scallop.

“When I cleaned up their table. They had a note that said, ‘Thanks for another year.’ When I asked the chef, he said they came in every year and always ordered the same thing.” He prodded me to flip the scallop.

“It was the same meal they had on their first date when the chef’s dad ran the restaurant.

I should have guessed it. We didn’t even have pasta on the menu at that point. ”

“You’re such a softie.”

He stepped in, picking the small brown disc out of the pan. Simon dropped it on a wad of paper towels, giving it a pat down before shoving a fork inside. Hovering in front of my face, I took a quick bite.

“Hot. Hot. Hot.” Once it cooled down, I was shocked at how good it tasted. I made that! “That’s delicious.”

Simon took a bite, chewing slowly. “A little lemon and we have a winner.”

“That wasn’t so hard.” Now I could cook more than Mac and cheese. I was basically a world-renowned chef at this point. “If the comic shop doesn’t work out, I’ll be a chef at the Bistro.”

“Sous chef.” He lifted the board, holding the rest of the scallops. “For now.”

I took the cutting board with the remaining scallops, ready to begin the rest of the cook. Simon resumed his position behind me. If he stayed there, I’d cook all night long. I’m not sure this was his usual teaching technique in the kitchen, but I wouldn’t complain.