Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Baby, all I ask is that you try.”
When the bathwater began to cool, we drained the tub and rinsed the bubbles off our bodies. After we dried off, I offered Ben a pair of my running shorts. They were big on him, but he folded the waist over and made do. I put on shorts as well, then led him to the kitchen where I opened a bottle of wine and threw together a quick charcuterie board with olives, cheese, and crackers.
“Try this Albariño with the Manchego,” I said handing him a slice of cheese and the glass I’d just poured.
He seated himself at the island, tasted the cheese, then took a tentative sip of wine.
His eyes lit up. “Wow, that’s really good. I keep trying to like wine, but I haven’t really gotten into it.”
That was something I could help with. I’d studied wine extensively and recently invested in a vineyard. “Tell me what you like about this wine.”
He frowned. “I don’t really know.”
“Taste it again and tell me what strikes you.”
22
BEN
I took another sip and considered. I didn’t know all the proper terms used by wine experts, and most of them didn’t make sense anyway. What did it mean for it to have mineralogy or be sharp on the finish?
“It tastes a little like citrus fruit, especially lime. I know it’s made from grapes but….”
“I get that,” Miles said. “It definitely has lime as well as other citrus notes. I think that’s part of why it pairs perfectly with Manchego.”
I took a bite of a different cheese, then another sip. “It tastes different with this one.”
Miles smiled. “It does. That’s Port Salut, not as great a pairing, but I wanted to put out some variety.”
“This is all perfect. What are you making?” So far he’d grated some Parmesan and placed almonds and sun-dried tomatoes in the food processor.
“Bucatini with Sicilian almond pesto and burrata. The burrata will also go wonderfully with this Albariño.”
“Wow. I have never had any of that, but I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“You don’t have any food allergies, do you?”
“No. I’m open to trying new things.”
“I certainly got that impression earlier.”
I looked down, suddenly too embarrassed to meet his gaze. When I thought about the things we’d done, the way I had shamelessly begged him, the look on his face when he came, it was all too much.
I focused on the cheese and crackers as he whirled the ingredients in the food processor. By then, water was boiling in the large pot on the stove, so he added the pasta.
Sitting here in his kitchen with him cooking for me, answering normal, everyday questions was as strange as being naked in front of him. Being here made more sense when everything had felt like a fantasy in the giant tub and his enormous bed. Not that his kitchen wasn’t the thing a fantasy for anyone who enjoyed cooking, but there was something so normal about preparing a meal, even if it was a fancy one.
“What’s your favorite thing to eat?” Miles asked.
“My favorite for a special occasion or for every day?” I asked.
“Both,” he said.
“For every day, a bacon cheeseburger. If I’m going all out, anything involving scallops and pasta.”
“Good choices.” His smile made my heart flutter.
“What about you?”
“For a special occasion, nothing is better than a perfectly medium-rare filet. For every night, a simple pasta like this one.”
I studied him to see if he was serious. “That’s simple to you?”
“Sure. I just put ingredients in the food processor, make the pasta, and top it with the pesto and burrata.”
He certainly had made it look simple. “And when do you shop for all those ingredients?”
“I have my groceries delivered. All of these items are staples.”
“Wow.”
“So, what do you cook at home?” Miles asked.
“Ramen noodles, macaroni from a box, frozen dinners. That’s what simple means to me.”
He looked horrified. “That’s not food.”
“You really haven’t ever lived in the real world, have you? Did you always have your own cook? Even in college?”
“Maybe, but I had to eat cafeteria food in boarding school, and it was horrible. We had canned vegetables and pizza with nothing on it but sausage that didn’t even seem to be seasoned. I couldn’t wait to be fed properly at home during the holidays.”
Miles drained the pasta and stirred everything together. It smelled amazing and looked equally as beautiful. As a garnish, he sprinkled pieces of fresh basil over the top, then set a plate in front of me and refilled my wine glass.
“Go ahead and try it. Tell me what you think.”
I took a bite, conscious of him watching me, but I didn’t have to pretend to like it. It was amazing. Everything was so flavorful, and he really had pulled it together quickly. “It’s delicious. You really are good at everything.”
He joined me at the bar with his own plate and wine. “Remember, I only let people see the things I’m good at.”