Page 87 of Second Act
Jessica smiled, relishing the easy banter between her lover and her brother. “I’m so lucky to have two good-looking guys stripping off my wallpaper.”
Aidan groaned. “Yup, it still sounds really wrong.”
“Let me get out of my scrubs and I’ll be right back,” Jessica said.
“Let me help you get out of your scrubs,” Hugh purred, running his hand up and down her back.
“Please do, and then get your ya-yas out while you’re at it,” Aidan said. “I can’t take the overpowering reek of sexual tension.”
Hugh laughed and squeezed Jessica’s bottom, making her squeak. “I’ll finish the last patch on the fireplace wall while you change.”
“And then we can go out to some fancy restaurant?” Aidan asked hopefully.
“No,” Jessica snapped out. Two heads swiveled toward her in surprise. “Let’s stay home and cook dinner.”
Aidan gaped at her. “Since when do you cook?”
“Just because I don’t cook doesn’t mean I can’t.” She could make three dishes with some confidence, so she’d pick one.
“Actually,” Hugh said, “I’m a very good chef.I’llmake dinner.”
Now it was Jessica’s turn to gape. “When did you learn to cook? Your specialty was pancakes out of a mix box.”
“I played one of those self-destructive chefs—you know, alcohol, drugs, and women—in an indie movie a couple of years ago. I needed to learn knife skills, so they brought in a real chef to teach me the rudiments. We got along well, so he gave me a few other cooking lessons, too.” Hugh shrugged. “I find it relaxing.”
“You’re on. Give me a list of ingredients, and I’ll do the shopping while you finish the stripping.”
“Do you know what jicama looks like in the raw?” Hugh asked.
“No, but my smartphone will.” Jessica pecked him on the cheek and raced for the stairs.
By the time she returned with her purchases, Hugh had put on a clean T-shirt over his working jeans and was rummaging around in the kitchen for pots and pans. “This is going to require some improvisation,” he said, holding up one of her ancient cast-iron frying pans to examine its dimensions.
“What are you making?” Jessica asked, setting the contents of her grocery bags out on the Formica countertop.
“It’s a secret. You will just chop what I put in front of you.” But he softened his command by lifting her hair away from her neck and kissing her just behind her earlobe.
“Mmm,” Jessica said as sensation tingled over her skin. “Yes, master. I am your slave.”
“Sex slave, I hope,” Hugh said.
Aidan made gagging sounds from the other room.
Jessica laughed and turned on music from her cell phone, channeling it to a wireless speaker on the counter. “Now Aidan won’t be able to hear us.”
Hugh listened for a minute before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. “I need hard rock for this job. And beer.” He took two bottles of her craft brew out of the fridge. “At least you stock the truly important stuff.” He flicked off the caps and handed her one. “Aidan doesn’t get his until he’s finished with the wallpaper. Drinking and stripping don’t mix.”
For the next forty-five minutes, Jessica alternated between chopping various vegetables and herbs and watching Hugh not only cook, but dance while he did it. When he came to collect the pieces from hercutting board, he would pull her into a little slow dance with him, his thigh thrust between hers, his hands on her butt, and his mouth against her neck, keeping her in a simmer of arousal. If her brother hadn’t been a few feet away, she would have had sex with Hugh right there in the kitchen.
The three of them crowded around the small oak table to eat what turned out to be a dinner both delicious and healthy. The jicama had been transformed into low-fat french fries while the tilapia sported a crunchy pecan crust. Dessert was a featherlight angel-food cake with a strawberry puree. Aidan and Jessica’s came drizzled with a warm chocolate sauce, but Hugh skipped the extra calories it added.
Jessica hadn’t understood before how important the physical aspect of Hugh’s profession was. His body had to be kept as finely tuned as his acting skills, at least when he was playing Julian Best. She was impressed by his dedication and discipline. Not to mention what a pleasure it was to run her hands over all those gorgeous, toned muscles.
They turned the music up again as they washed the dishes. This time Aidan joined them in boogying around the kitchen. Jessica got another glimpse of Hugh’s talent when the two men played a duet on air guitar to an old Rolling Stones song. Hugh became Mick Jagger with every movement and facial expression. He even seemed to grow thinner.
As she ran a dish towel over the skillet Hugh had eyed so dubiously before, Jessica sighed. “I wish there were more dishes.”
“You’re weird, sis,” Aidan said.
