Page 69 of Gideon
We end up going back to the cottage without food, and as we get through the door, Gid pushes me towards the stairs. “Go and have a shower.”
“Is this a less than tactful way of telling me that I smell?”
“When have Ieverbeen tactful?”
I laugh. “Point taken.” He shrugs, looking uneasy, and my focus intensifies. “What’s going on?”
“I want you to take a shower while I cook something.”
“Youcook something?”
“I have taken cookery lessons here.”
“So I read in your emails. But I have seen no sign whatsoever of this culinary expertise. Unless we’re counting toast or croissants, and I’m pretty sure they’re not on the menu at Le Gavroche.”
“Well, now I’m cooking, smart arse. Have a shower and don’t put any clothes on when you get out.”
I stare at him and rub my hands. “This is already shaping up to being a tidy afternoon. I like your thinking.” Gideon smiles but it fades, and he almost looks bashful. “What is it?” I ask softly. “You can tell me anything.”
“I knowthat,” he says in a slightly aggrieved manner that says it’s incomprehensible that I have to point it out. It warms my heart, as do his next words. “I just want to look after you,” he says softly.
I step into him, drawing him into my arms and hugging him tight. “You do look after me.”
“Not like I want to,” he says stubbornly. “You take such good care of me, Eli. I want to do the same.”
“Okay then,” I whisper. I step back and smile at him. “I’m going for a shower.” He kisses me, his lips soft against mine.
I take my time in the shower, enjoying the cool water. I pinch his body wash, relishing having the scent of spicy vanilla on me. A little piece of him. I close my eyes and shake my head.What the hell?
I wander into the bedroom when I get out, rubbing my hair dry, and come to a halt when I see Gideon waiting by the bed wearing only a pair of black sports shorts. “What’s going on?” I then inhale at the scent of food coming from the table by the window. “That smells lush. What is it?”
“Bit of everything that we had left in the fridge,” he says gloomily. “Turns out you actually need ingredients to cook.”
I laugh. “Who knew.” I hug him and wander over to the plate. “I’d rather have this anyway,” I say, looking at the food. “Hummus, pitta breads. Stuffed peppers. All my favourites.”
“I think I got that when you practically had an orgasm in the deli. We really will have to do a food order at some point this week.”
I slap his arse. “Man cannot live on sex.” I pause. “Although we’ve really given it a bloody good go this week, Gid.” He laughs as I grin at him. “I don’t mind takeaways, but they’re not very good for us. I’d like to eat some proper meals too, and it would be good for you.” I tear off a piece of pitta bread that’s steaming softly and dip it into the golden-brown hummus. I gobble it down, only realising how hungry I am when I practically inhale the first piece.
“Good?” he asks, laying a towel down on the bed.
“So good,” I groan. I watch him for a second as I eat. “Are you intending to murder me?”
He blinks. “Not right this minute. Why?”
“The towel.”
“Oh no, that’s for a massage.” He pauses. “But I’ll put it to one side with the saw just in case I need them later.”
“There’s good thinking.” I laugh and eat another pitta bread, watching him potter about the bedroom. I pop a stuffed pepper into my mouth.
“You finished?” he says, standing by the bed with a brown glass bottle in his hand. “It’s probably best that you don’t eat too much right now. You can eat afterwards.”
“After what? This all sounds interestingly seedy.”
He chuckles, the lines at the sides of his eyes lengthening in a way that always makes me want to kiss him. So I do. I step into him, holding his hip and kissing him deeply and thoroughly. When I pull back, we’re both breathing heavily.
He steps back. “Lie on your stomach on the bed and make sure you lose the towel.”
