Page 48 of The Kitchen Contract

“I think you should probably thank Annie and Kayla for meddling,” I counter with a laugh.

“You’re right. I should send them flowers or something.”

“I’ll help you pick some out later. Are you ready?” I palm the remote to start the video recording.

Alex claps his hands and puts on his game face as he moves into position beside me and looks at the camera. “Let’s make some muffins.”

I do the intro as usual, and we go straight into mixing up chocolate chip muffins. This is the first recipe we’ve recorded since we took our relationship in a romantic direction and it’s weird how it feels the same but also different. We follow the same routine, except every comment, look, and brush of fingertips feels significant now. I wonder if our audience will pick up on our new dynamic and if so, how they will feel about it. I have a feeling there will be at least a few broken hearts if word gets out that Alex is taken.

As soon as I click the button to stop the video, Alex leans in and nuzzles my neck, pressing a kiss to my collarbone and making me shiver. He steps back with a chuckle when my stomach rumbles loudly enough for both of us to hear.

“Sounds like you need a muffin.”

“Or two,” I agree. “Do you have any sandwich stuff? It seems like the responsible thing to eat something with a bit of nutrition before a chocolate chip muffin.”

Alex flaps his hand. “Responsibility is overrated. But if you want a sandwich, a sandwich you shall have.”

He pulls open the fridge and starts removing sliced turkey, cheese, and a selection of condiments while I move aside our muffin mess.

“How about toasting them, like a grilled cheese?” I ask.

When Alex agrees enthusiastically, I withdraw a skillet from the cabinet beside the sink. After having spent a considerable amount of time in his kitchen, I’ve gotten a pretty good feel for where everything is.

I reach for a bottle of mustard and some mayo for my sandwich. Alex shakes a bottle of ketchup for his.

“You eat ketchup on your sandwiches?” I ask, trying to sound interested and not disgusted. I’m all about trying different foods, but that sounds gross. To be fair, I’m not a huge fan of ketchup in general.

“Sure, ketchup is good on almost everything.”

I’m about to disagree when a loud pop makes me squeal instead. I feel a sharp stinging on my arm and I look down to see that I’m covered in blood.

My heart rate spikes and I feel a scream climbing up my throat.

“Whoa, that was wild!” I look up to see Alex holding a lidless ketchup bottle in his hand. The scream finds its way out and his head whips up to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, tossing the bottle in the sink and rushing forward to grip my wrists. “Are you hurt?”

I don’t know whether to shake my head or nod yes. My arm still stings, but there’s no blood there. It’s only on the front of my shirt. My brain is slowly starting to make sense of what it’s seeing, and I take a deep breath. “I’m fine. I just…I think the ketchup lid hit me and then I thought…I thought this was blood.” I gesture at my front.

Alex visibly relaxes. “Oh man, I thought something was really wrong.”

“I did too,” I say a bit defensively. Then, much to my surprise, a giggle bursts out of me. The next thing I know, I’m bent over at the waist, laughing hysterically as my panic drains away.

“How in the world did that happen?” I ask when I finally start to regain control of myself. I wipe tears from under my eyes and breathe deeply.

“I don’t know. I guess I shook it too hard?”

I lift up the bottom of my shirt and sniff, wrinkling my nose at the pungent odor. “I think your ketchup had gone bad. I bet it was just sitting there building up pressure and when you shook it...”

“Well, I hope that’s something that never happens to me again.” Alex glances around and groans. “This is going to take forever to clean up. I wish I could have the poppy seed spill again.”

“You aren’t kidding.” Splashes of red dot the floor, the counters, the cabinets, and, of course, me. “I don’t suppose you have a shirt I can borrow?”

“Come with me.” Alex leads me to his bathroom, pulling a shirt from his dresser on the way. “You can change in here. I guess I’ll start mopping.”

Once we get the ketchup eruption under control, it only takes a few minutes to make and eat our sandwiches, thereby earning those muffins, which were worth the wait, by the way. Now that I’m sure I’m not about to bleed to death, I can’t get over how good this feels as we cook, eat, and clean up together, chatting and laughing and stealing kisses all the while. I know it’s only been a week, but my mind is already jumping forward, wondering what it would be like to have this experience on the daily.

It’s way, way too early to bring up the “M” word, especially with everything that happened last time Alex attempted wedlock. The last thing I want to do is rush him or freak him out. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. I remember all the times I’ve heard people say that when you find your person, you just know, and I’m beginning to suspect that there’s a chance I might understand what that feels like now.

---