Page 83 of Lost Love Found

“It’s fine. You can do whatever you want. You live here too.” Even if it’s temporary. I smile at him, my eyes drawn to the plate of freshly baked muffins. But his gaze seems more focused on the paper lying next to them. I step closer and lean in, my eyes widening as I take in the handwriting on the sheet — Elaina's Lemon Poppyseed Muffins. “This is… this is my mom’s lemon poppyseed muffin recipe. How did you get this?” I lift it and start to read it, but he snatches it away from me faster than I can read the ingredients. “She has never let me have the recipe for this. Why do you have it?”

He tucks the paper into his pocket and the timer on the over dings. I watch as he puts on oven mitts, and I choke on air as I feel every inch of my skin burn with desire for him. Yes, this is incredibly sexy, OK? I want to take a picture of this moment. I want to frame the picture. Hang it up all over the house. I want to never forget how his muscles flex as he bends to take a dish out of the oven.

He’s very careful to turn the oven off and gently pull a pie out, setting it on a cooling rack. How did he know to use a cooling rack? Is that chicken pot pie? OH MY GOD IS THAT CHICKEN POT PIE? Shit. Fuck. Breathe!

I look around the kitchen to see if I’ve missed anything else. What the hell is he up to? My ears ring and it sinks in that maybe he’s doing this for me. Maybe he’s making me my favorite things.

“Elaina!” I hear him shout. I startle and turn back to him. He’s taken his apron off, and my eyes travel over the hard ridges of his body. Cheese on rice. I'm not gonna make it.

“Yeah, what?” I shake my head, wondering if I’ve walked into the twilight zone.

“Didn’t you hear me? I asked if you’re alright. You look a little pale.” I’m having a very hard time concentrating on breathing right now, let alone formulating actual thoughts and words.

“What are you doing, Adam?” He’s on the other side of the island from me. Too far away.

He clears his throat. “I was, uh… trying to make your favorite foods.” He reaches into his pocket absentmindedly, where he just put the muffin recipe.

“Why?” I can tell my tone is all wrong by the way he winces when I ask this. I am fucking this up so badly!

“Because I l- Because you matter to me. Because you do these things for other people all the time like it’s not a big deal, but it is.” His cheeks flush and he reaches for a T-shirt on one of the stools. Sadly, he puts it on. Probably for the best. Maybe getting some blood flow back to my brain will help me actually think through what the hell I’m saying.

“How did you get my mom to give you the recipe for the muffins?” Nope, I’m still fucking this up. Why does that even matter right now?

“I told her I wanted to make them for you, and she said OK, as long as you never set eyes on the recipe because, and I quote, ‘she should have someone who loves her make her favorite comfort foods for her.’” His eyes never leave mine and he’s taken a few steps closer to me, but we’re still too far to touch.

“And that person is you?” My voice cracks and I think I’m sweating.

“Yes. Always,” he answers simply.

“But… you said… in Marblehead, you said you were there as my friend.” I begin pacing. I wasn’t prepared for this, and the words come flying out. “I flew here to make a big… a grand… I was supposed to brainstorm a whole thing. Maybe finally get you that basket of strawberries. I came to show you… to tell you…” His hands are on my shoulders, holding me still, steadying me like only he can.

“Slow down. Show me what? Tell me what?” His brows are furrowed and his blue eyes swirl with worry.

“That I’m in love with you. I came home to—” His lips crash into mine as he holds my face tenderly in his hands. As our kiss deepens, his fingers grip the back of my head.

“You love me?” I nod. “Tell me again,” he whispers onto my lips. His ocean-blue eyes hold mine and I don’t dare look away.

“I love you, Adam. I’m in love with you.” My heart expands in my chest as I finally say these words out loud.

“Again?” His forehead rests on mine, his eyes intent on my lips like he needs to both see and hear what I’m saying.

“I love you. I never want to be without you.” He kisses me again, more urgently now, pulling me up on the countertop so he’s standing between my legs.

“One more time,” he says as his lips move against mine, a small smile across his lips.

“I love you. So much.” We’re forehead to forehead for a few seconds until he stands straighter, his blue eyes finding mine.

“I love you, Elaina.” He kisses my cheek. “I love you.” Then my jaw. “I love you.” My neck. “I love you.” He kisses my lips again and wipes the tears from my cheeks. “Only you. Forever.” The fireworks burst inside my chest, their sparks lighting me up from the inside and the warmth blazing through every inch of my body.

Our kiss becomes more frantic, and I feel his hands scoop me up as he walks us out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom. He sets me down on the bed, and as if knowing exactly what I’m thinking, he undresses himself. I make quick work of removing my jeans and T-shirt. This is nothing like last time. He’s not controlled and calm and neither am I. We’re frantic for each other. I don’t take my eyes off of him. He’s unfairly beautiful. All taut muscles with a scattering of dark hair on his chest and arms, and that trail down to his perfect cock. I could never want anyone else like this. I unclasp my bra and remove it. Then he’s on top of me, his mouth on my breast, his teeth grazing my nipple, making my back arch off of the bed.

“Tell me what you want, Elaina.” I smile at his request loving how much he likes to hear me say it.

He grasps the waistband of my panties and quickly pulls them down, then his lips are trailing up my body. His lips are gentle yet firm, and I feel a wave of goosebumps ripple up my skin as he brushes my neck with a feathery kiss.

“I want you. Now.” I wrap my fingers around his erection and line him up. God, he feels so fucking good.

He makes quick work of moving my wrists above my head, trapping them beneath one of his large hands while the other travels down my body, exploring every curve. I tremble and shake my head in refusal, but he just chuckles knowingly. “We can take it slow, baby.”

---