Page 61 of Love Is…?

“I simply cannot imagine the continuation of your employment if I am subjected to that amount of sass,” Sam said with an affected high class accent.

Tessa giggled again. “Seriously. Let’s get on with this. What’s the first step?”

Moving about the kitchen fairly seamlessly for a very tall and a not-at-all-tall duo, Sam and Tessa managed to create a batter that looked, and tasted like, the recipe said it should.

Sam pronounced it a success as she shoved it into the left-hand side of the dual oven which dominated the space to the side of the kitchen, and Tessa began to gather the used bowls and utensils. Suddenly, Jayde reached across and held her wrist. “My supervisory role was integral to this success, so I should be amply rewarded.”

The veins under Tessa’s skin ignited. Wonderful images of how Jayde could be amply rewarded flashed through her mind. Her wrist trembled as Jayde ran soft circles over the skin on the inside of her wrist.

They held eye contact.

“So,” Sam said. “If rewards are being passed around, then accompanying coffee is in order.” She sent a long look to both Tessa and Jayde, then spun around to the espresso machine.

Jayde leaned forward, pulling softly on Tessa’s wrist to bring her closer. “When I was little, I was always allowed to lick the spatula,” she murmured.

Tessa’s breath hitched. Lick. A word. That was all it took for her bones to start dissolving. Angel was right. Again. She removed her hand, and placed the other utensils on the bench.Then she plucked up the spatula, dragged it around the inside of the bowl, collecting the remaining batter, and held it out to Jayde.

“Here you go.”

Without breaking eye contact, with Tessa’s breath becoming more shallow by the second, Jayde poked out her tongue, and very deliberately, very slowly, licked her way from the bottom to the top of the flat silicone surface, scooping up the mixture.

Tessa gripped the rounded edge of the marble counter.Oh dear God.Jayde’s eyes were dark with intent. If it was possible to have sex between two pairs of eyeballs, then just now they’d have finished mutual orgasms and were cuddling in the centre of the bed.

Jayde glanced at Sam who still had her back to them, then lifted an eyebrow at Tessa, returning the spatula. “It’s all about the technique,” she whispered, then she spoke louder. “I’m just going to pop to the bathroom. Sam, it’s up the hall at the end, right?”

Sam turned around, her lips rolled in as if she was holding back a smile. “Yep. Same place. I’ll have your coffee ready by the time you get back.”

Tessa’s gaze followed Jayde until she disappeared around the corner, then she exhaled.

Sam gestured, palm out, at Jayde’s empty stool.

“How many interviews has Jayde had with Abby now? Nine? Ten?”

Tessa peered at Sam. Why would she know the number of interviews—it was eight—Jayde had done so far? “Who knows? What are numbers? When is time?” Tessa bent her head over the used mixing bowls.

Sam laughed.“Too true. Time is relative, isn’t it? Just like love, a crush, desire, any of those things.”

Tessa snapped her head up. Sam, leaning against the counter again, had her arms crossed, and an inscrutable expression held court over most of her face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she lifted her chin. “The MTC offers acting classes.” Her statement was underscored with humour.

Tessa frowned in confusion. “Um. Yes, I know?”

Sam delivered a nonchalant shrug. “You’ll need to enrol if you want to continue checking out Jayde without anyone knowing.”

Tessa flushed, and covered her face. “Oh my God! I’m so embarrassed.”

Sam gave a soft laugh and reached over to rub Tessa’s shoulder. “Don’t be. It’s awesome.”

“She’s…” Tessa slid her hands away, and took in Sam’s delighted grin. “It’s…”

Sam nodded sympathetically. “It’s complicated?”

Tessa rounded her eyes. “So very complicated.”

Sam hummed. “Uh huh.”

Tessa shook her head. “Anyway, not for now because I need to be a serious chaperone creating an excellent cake for my charge. Not a woman hung up on…” She waved vaguely towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

When Grace peeled backthe tissue paper—she was one of those people who saved the wrapping—she found a signed, leather-bound, first-edition of Maya Angelou’s ‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings’.

---