Poetry Man. Melanie Schuster
he waited for the delivery of the custom ovens and cooktops from England. It was a pain in the behind, but it gave him time to search out Hilton Head Island for a potential spot and better yet, it would also allow him time to get to know Alexis better. That chocolate-colored skin, those flashing eyes, her luscious lips… He groaned and stretched again. She was a great kisser. Kissing her could be a part-time job as far as he was concerned.
He smiled again when he heard “Soulful Strut” by Young-Holt Unlimited playing; it was the ring tone he’d chosen for his phone. The smile got bigger when he looked at the caller ID and saw it was Alexis calling. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
A slight pause let him know that he’d caught her off guard. “Actually, I did sleep well. And you?”
“I was drugged into oblivion, thanks. I owe you another thanks for dragging my lanky self home. Most people would have left me in the emergency room to fend for myself.”
He could almost feel her smile over the phone. “I’m not most people, I’m special. Besides, I’m in your debt. You rescued me and got injured and I felt responsible. In fact, I should probably pay your hospital bill.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Don’t be silly. You owe me nothing. Besides, I have insurance. What I could use, however, is some assistance getting the Rover back home.”
He was so enthralled with the sound of her voice that he barely listened to her reply. Her voice was velvety and rich like chocolate ganache. It had a low, sexy pitch and he wondered if she sang. She had to; just hearing her talk was like listening to a song. He was so caught up in his enjoyment of her sultry tone that he had to yank himself back into the moment when she repeated a question.
“Sure, yes, I can be ready. You really don’t mind coming to pick me up?”
“Not at all. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes, is that okay?”
“Perfect. See you soon.”
Now he was totally energized. He got out of bed and went to the kitchen for plastic wrap to cover his bandaged arm so he could shower. His habit was to do as much as possible in the shower to save time and water, so he brushed his teeth, shaved and bathed, emerging from the huge stall clean and cheerful. He dressed quickly, in jeans, a chambray shirt that was so old it was more white than blue and a pair of Crocs. They weren’t the most attractive shoes in the world, but for someone who was on his feet most of the day, they were lifesavers. He combed his blond hair and thought about getting a haircut. It was down to his shoulders and it didn’t bother him, but it drove his mother nuts. Her current aim in life was to get him married and she was sure that his hair was sending out the wrong message. He could hear her words as clearly as if she was in the room with him. “Sweetheart, I think you need to cut that hair. You’d look much sexier and sophisticated with a really good cut. How are you going to meet the right woman looking like a scruffy line cook?”
His eyes crinkled in a smile. His mother never bit her tongue when it came to expressing her opinion on anything, especially when it came to marrying off her oldest son. He ran his hand through the long, drying strands and shrugged. Since he wasn’t trying to land a wife, he saw no reason to worry about the length or style of his hair.
Turning on his iPod, he glanced at the clock on the docking station and decided that he had enough time to make Alexis something delicious for breakfast. There was no point in being a Cordon Bleu–trained chef if he couldn’t impress a beautiful woman with an impromptu repast. He set to work, getting out the ingredients for biscuits, sausage and omelets. The mise en place was critical to any good cook; having everything at one’s fingertips made the process of meal preparation much easier.
A knock on the door surprised him. Surely that couldn’t be Alexis already? He didn’t know any prompt women other than his mother and his two sisters. He thought that timeliness was a genetic trait because he’d never witnessed it outside his family. He answered the door and there was Alexis, fresh and sweet-smelling like a spring flower. He was so taken with the sight of her that he almost forgot to say hello, but his innate good manners kicked in.
“Good morning, Alexis. You look absolutely beautiful.”
She was wearing a short trench coat in a soft gray color and under it he could see something in a tangerine color that made her complexion glow. Her hair was sleek and glossy and she had three earrings in each ear, a tiny gold post and two small gold hoops. She smiled at him and remarked that he used the word beautiful a lot.
“Only when it’s appropriate, as it is now.” He held out his hand to her and led her into the large room that comprised the main living space of the loft. “Please come in and let me take your coat. Since you were nice enough to help me reclaim my car, I thought a little breakfast was in order.”
Alexis looked as if she was about to refuse but the smell of the coffee coming from the kitchen area was too enticing. “That’s right. You told Dr. Patil that you were opening a restaurant. You made breakfast for me?”
“I’m just getting started. Can you stay or do you need to go to work or something?”
“Actually, I took the morning off. And I love to eat, so you may be creating a monster here. All I ask is that you let me watch. I like to cook,” she confided. “Any time I can pick up some techniques from a pro is a good time for me.”
Jared helped her remove her coat and felt a tremor of arousal as he saw that the tangerine color was a soft, thin tunic sweater that wrapped around her slender frame like a lover’s caress. Her slim-fitting black jeans made her butt look spectacular and he had a hard time taking his gaze away from her. After he hung up her coat, he took her hand again and walked her to the kitchen area. He was pleased to see her eyes light up as she observed his array of utensils and ingredients. She went to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly.
“Mise en place before anything else? That’s the way I try to do it. Not just because I’ve read about it so often, but because if I don’t, things get a little catastrophic,” she admitted.
“Then you have good basic skills. That’s one of the first things you learn in culinary school.” Jared rummaged around in a small closet and emerged with a big white chef’s apron which he proceeded to put on Alexis. It covered her entire front and almost came down to her ankles.
“I don’t want anything to happen to that beautiful sweater. The color is fantastic on you, by the way.”
Alexis laughed softly. “You could bottle that charm and make some serious cash,” she teased him. “So what are you fixing today?”
“I’d planned on omelets with sausage, sweet potato hash, biscuits and peach preserves. How does that sound?”
“It sounds fabulous. What do we do first?”
“First we make the sausage. I normally make links but I haven’t found a supplier for the casings I like, so I’m going to make little patties. I hope you like salmon.”
Her eyes widened. “My absolute favorite. I’ve never had salmon sausage before.”
“I like to make home-style food. I’m not too crazy about trendy food and weird ingredients. My aim is to make the best American-style food with the freshest ingredients possible. I make several different kinds of fish sausages, as well as chicken and turkey.”
Alexis looked mesmerized as she carefully watched everything he was doing. His knife skills were amazing. Alexis was pretty good with a knife, but compared to Jared, she was a rank amateur. “Where did you study cooking?”
“After I graduated from Indiana University, I went to Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. I’d made a deal with my parents. If I finished my business degree and I still had a passion for cooking, they’d pay for me go to Cordon Bleu, since I was nice enough to get a full scholarship for undergrad. I’ve always known I wanted to be a chef, but Pop wanted to make sure I could do it right as far as the business side was concerned.”
“What does your dad do?” Alexis asked curiously.
“Pop