Page 26 of Recipe for a Curse

“Must have missed that,” I said quietly as he licked his thumb and I imagined him licking other things. I couldn’t stop from licking my lips and sucking my lower lip in my mouth, worried I’d made more of a mess of myself.

Rio’s gaze fell to my mouth and he sucked in air, like he was startled by something. It was an odd moment, like the sort you see in movies and read in novels, about being caught in a web of emotion. Desire, first and foremost, then a bit of worry that something was being misread. Did Rio feel the pull I felt? Was it just wishful thinking? Was he really looking at me like he could eat me? Kiss me stupid? And holy fuck wasn’t that hot?

I had a long moment of being caught in his gaze, unsure what to do. Worried that any move I made would be wrong.

But it was him who leaned forward, fingers on my chin, tilting my face up to meet his kiss. A soft touch of lips, the delicate dance of his tongue tracing the outline of them, as though searching for more custard, and me opening to him. The kiss expanding into something hungry and sensual. He tasted of the custard and the warm mulled cider I’d prepared and kept going all day. Rio’s mouth, firm on mine, was a bit of heaven.

It was a fight not to reach out and touch him, but my hands were covered in fruit juice, and I worried I’d scare him away, even though he had made the first move. We stayed like that for a moment. His intense blue gaze focused on me, lips on mine in a sweet dance of small kisses and warm breath. I had a thousand questions, and only one real desire.

The sound of the door opening behind us made Rio take a step back. I knew it was Zach by the sound of his snowsuit rustling. Heat flooded my cheeks. Had I just been making out with Rio in the kitchen while I was supposed to be working? Crap.

I turned back to the fruit, madly putting them on the tart in perfect layers and trying to steady my breathing. Facing the island meant no one could see the erection straining my too tight pants. Maybe I needed to start wearing something looser around Rio. As if I owned anything not fitted.

“How’s everything going?” Zach asked from his spot in the doorway.

“Dinner’s in process,” I promised. “Rio’s been a big help.”

“We have a Caesar chicken salad with fresh rolls for dinner, right?” Zach wanted to know. It had been what I texted him earlier. “And soup.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“And a fruit tart?”

I glanced down at it. Okay so the fruit tart didn’t really go with salad and soup. “Rio said he doesn’t get much fruit.”

“Of course,” Zach said, sounding a bit amused. “Since all you have left is the soup, perhaps I can borrow Rio to help me haul wood in for the fireplaces?”

Rio half jumped away from me. “Sure. I can help.”

“He needs snow gear,” I reminded them both.

“On it,” Zach promised. Rio glanced back at me, something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. But he’d kissed me first, so I hadn’t been imagining that. Had Zach seen? Was he mad? Was that why he was pulling Rio away? But that made no sense. Zach was never mad. Cautious, but never angry.

“Thank you for your help with dinner,” I told Rio as he followed Zach to the mudroom closet. He’d helped prep the chicken, and cut up the salad as well as shape rolls I had yet to bake.

“You’re welcome,” Rio said.

Zach dragged Rio away to help him load firewood. Which meant I missed his presence pretty fast. Odd how I’d worked mostly alone for over a year and never been bothered until now. Ana and I had never been overly chatty. Not that Rio was either. It was more the idea of his awe over the fresh flavors and foods he hadn’t ever had, or hadn’t experienced in years. I needed to change up the menu more. Find things that wowed people, even if it was the staff. That’s what kept me motivated. Though Rio’s admiration was a bit more than simple food prep. I’d cook anything for him if he kept kissing me like that.