Page 50 of Sensuous

“I don’t like it, but that’ll keep us out of trouble, for sure.”

“Today someone gets to enjoy the chicken bourguignon, so we’ll be busy focused on that and watching some poor soul try that haggis. Oh, God, I hope it isn’t me. I don’t think I can even see that without throwing up.”

“I think the ones who have to eat the food are the ones who decided what was going to be made, so I think I’ll be fine. At least I hope I will,” he says with a groan.

“I’ll be thinking good thoughts for you. Maybe since Maria likes you she won’t make you eat the haggis.”

He gives me one of his sexy smiles, and I hurry out of his room, knowing if I don’t leave now that I might never leave. This man has seduced and enchanted me.

I better watch out or I’m going to fall for him if he keeps acting like this.

After the shortestshower I’ve ever taken and a quick swipe of mascara on my eyelashes, I hurry out of my apartment and race to the studio. I’m a few minutes late and Alex has already arrived, so at least we don’t look like we were coming from the same place.

I get ready for the day at my station, and Shane comes to the center of the studio to announce who gets to eat which dish from yesterday. Murphy is the lucky one who will taste my dish, and Josie with the jet-black hair who’s the quietest out of all of us has the misfortune of being chosen to eat the haggis.

Poor girl. What did she do to deserve that?

Emma seems particularly out of sorts today, not even saying hello when I came over and said good morning to her. Then it dawns on me why she’s giving me the cold shoulder. I never got back to her last night.

Damnit!

I hurry over to her station and wait for her to finish setting up her area. When she does and still refuses to look at me, I say, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back last night. I got tied up and then it was too late. Please don’t be angry.”

She gives me a side-eyed look and frowns. “I just wanted to talk to someone after yesterday. It’s no big deal.”

“It is, and I’m sorry. If you’d like to talk after we’re done today, we can grab a cup of coffee, if you want.”

Her icy demeanor starts to defrost with my offer, and she turns to look at me with a hint of a smile. “Okay. I’d like that. What tied you up last night?”

I know her question is innocent, but I can’t help but grin when she asks it. Not a what. A who. A man who made me question what I’d been calling good sex all these years.

“Just a family issue. My parents have a ton of them,” I lie.

She begins to say something about not being able to sleep after making that disgusting meal yesterday, but Maria barks out the order for everyone to go to their assigned dishes and start eating, so I hurry over to Alex’s area to see what Murphy thinks of my creation. Alex has been assigned to eat an Indian dish that sounds downright tasty, so it’s just me and Murphy there.

“Ready to have some chicken bourguignon?” I ask with a smile. “I hope you like it.”

Murphy gives me a nod and then a big grin. “It smells great. You and Alex may hate each other, but you guys seem to be able to cook together, at least.”

Stifling a laugh at how great we’ve turned out to be together, I shrug and hope my expression doesn’t scream that I just came from an incredible night of sex with Alex. “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.”

I watch him take his first forkful and wait for him to give me his opinion, but only a few moments later, his eyes open wide like he’s terrified of something or someone and he falls to the floor clutching his stomach. I assume it’s a joke since he’s been pretty good with teasing all of us these past few days, but he doesn’t get up.

“Murphy, what’s wrong? Are you kidding or is this serious?” I ask as he contorts his body into a twisted shape that looks like utter agony.

I look up for help and see Shane standing a few yards away. “Shane! Something’s wrong! Murphy collapsed. I think he needs an ambulance.”

Maria rushes over with him and calls 9-1-1 while everyone else drops whatever they were doing and hurries to see what’s going on. Murphy looks worse and worse as the seconds pass, and I can’t help but worry this happened because of my dish.

“It’s okay, Murph,” Shane says, crouched down next to his head. “The ambulance is on its way, so you’ll be fine.”

But Murphy doesn’t respond. I can’t take my eyes off his pale skin near his mouth. What could have happened?

The paramedics arrive a few minutes later and shoo everyone away so they can work on him. Devastated, I walk over to my station and hope to God he’s going to be okay. I can’t imaginewhat could have caused him to collapse and writhe in pain like that.

Emma wraps her arm around my shoulders and whispers, “It’s going to be okay. No matter what happened, he’s going to be fine. Maybe he’s allergic to something in the food you made, and he didn’t tell anyone?”

Her suggestion makes me feel a little better, but then I see the paramedics place him on the stretcher and all I want to do is cry. I’ve never had anyone react that way to something I made. I’ll never be able to cook again if he’s not okay.

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