Page 68 of Go Cook Yourself

I stare at him, wide-eyed. It’s like he’s a robot trying to pretend to be human. Kath shakes her head before continuing to set up.

“Get over here and stop being so weird.”

Garett stands in front of me as I try to attach the streamers.

“Are you going to help or just watch?”

There’s no one around us, but he whispers between gritted teeth like he’s a ventriloquist, “I’m trying to be professional. I’m following the rules.”

“By acting like a massive knob?”

He grunts his annoyance. Even at this distance, I can smell the cinnamon and that mystery scent I still can’t place. I want to kneel on the table, grab his head, and pull him to me for a kiss. His professional demeanour wanes as his stare licks like flames up my boots before raking up my body. Heat pools between my thighs as I remember the way I sat on his lap, writhing, on Sunday morning. I swear he’s thinking the same as he runs his knuckles across his stubble.

I wobble under his hungry glare, and immediately, his hands grip me around the waist. His fingers pinch my hips, and my chest moves up and down with the depths of my breaths. We remain like this until a clattering tray sounds from the demonstration counters.

“You look very nice,” I say as he helps me off the table. I breathe him in again, a moan escaping from between my lips.

“You resemble every sexy Christmas dream I’ve ever had.” He pops me onto the ground, practically pushing me away, shaking his head and grunting an expletive. He pulls his hand away. “I’ll get on with the streamers. You do something else.”

I cock my eyebrow, but he busies himself as I hang baubles onto the tree. At least he’s not regretful about Sunday. I’ve overplayed what we said to each other and everything else. My bullet vibrator is barely surviving, but in the mix of horniness, there are moments of panic and struggle. I can’t do hookups. I want to be able to, but I already like him a lot. Not that he needs to know that. I want to continue having sexual experiences that give me life, so I’ll continue pretending I’m cool as a fucking cucumber about our arrangement. I want him to want more, but I can’t forget the reasons I gave. My family is too importantto be hurt again, and us being in a relationship or trying to do anything more than a short-term hookup agreement will cause problems.

Ideally, we should talk it out before the class starts, but it’s nearly time for the punters to arrive.

“Hey, Ruby, did you lose one of your marshmallow earrings? Flora found it in the hideaway upstairs while setting up. It was under the sofa.”

Garett freezes.

“I slept here when it snowed. I stayed to bake but got snowed in, so I slept on the sofa,” I reply breezily.

“It sounds like the start of a winter horror movie. Were you safe all alone?” Wicksy asks.

“Of course she was all alone,” Garett grumbles, and everyone turns to stare at him, including Flora, who just walked into the room.

Should I fall into the tree to distract everyone? Thankfully, vehicles in the car park do the job. We move to greet the people who’ll be coming through the doors as I say loud enough for my team to hear, “Yes, I was safe. It was nice. It was the best sleep I’d ever had. Like ever.”

Garett stands by me, and when everyone is distracted by the first clients, he whispers in my ear, “The best ever?”

“Yes, by a mile. Like a perfect lemon drizzle cake that you want to eat again and again. Did you enjoy your sleep on Saturday?”

“I’ve never had one like it. It was the best sleep I’ve ever had, too.”

We beam at each other. I’m desperate to kiss his smiling face. His arm brushes mine, and then, as I lick my lips, he tracks my tongue. I can’t wait to get him alone after we’re done tonight. What with the sex god next to me and a fully booked class, nothing could be better.

But then a voice ices my veins and sets my teeth on edge. “Ruby, we hoped you’d be leading this tonight.”

I turn to find Neil and Viv, and they’re holding hands.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Garett

I recognise Ruby’s ex-boyfriend’s piggy face from the video call several weeks ago. He’s wearing a red tracksuit that could be described as retro, but it doesn’t fit the Christmas vibe unless he’s come as Santa’s thieving little brother.

And the mystery woman beside him wears a PVC green elf dress. It’d look okay if she were heading for a night out, but that isn’t cooking attire.

Both of the in-your-face outfits pale in comparison when my secret lover and friend trembles beside me. I don’t know if she’s shaking because she’s upset, anxious, angry, or all the above. I lean in to touch her as a friend, and she flinches as if she doesn’t recognise me.

Her reaction is like food stuck in my throat. Kath looks warily over, not at Ruby, but at me. I don’t know why because I’m sure I’m hiding my reaction well. We’re just friends, after all.

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