Page 13 of The Naughty List
All of it seems so random, but on his skin it’s somehow seamless. Perfect.
The illustrated history of the illusive Jonah X.
“Damn, these are good,” Jonah says after swallowing a mouthful of muffin. I’m pulled from my greedy perusal and in need of oxygen. Apparently I haven’t been breathing.
“I’m glad you like them. It’s a new recipe.”
“I love them. I could eat them all right now, but I need to get to the office. You swear they’re vegan?”
I laugh. He says this every time I make something he enjoys. I think his switch to veganism came from bonding with endangered animals and now he feels wrong eating meat. But I know he misses it. I’ve caught him salivating over my ma’s meatball sandwiches at lunch. I told him cows weren’t endangered but he just shook his head.
“I swear. I have the recipe with me if you don’t believe me.”
“Let’s see it,” he challenges.
I can understand why. The last vegan muffins I tried to make tasted like cardboard. Jonah said the paper wrappers probably tasted better.
I fish it out of my purse and set it on the counter.
“Look.” I point at the recipe. “Flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, lemon zest, salt, almond milk, vanilla, lemon juice, and fresh blueberries. The streusel on top has some vegan butter in it, but that’s everything. Promise.”
He leans close enough that I can smell the sharp clean scent of his body wash and expensive aftershave.
“Huh. Well they’re way better than the last ones.” He inhales another one.
My teeth dig into my lower lip and tug. “Um, yeah. I over-mixed those. And I didn’t know you were supposed to mix your wet and dry ingredients separately. This recipe had more detailed instructions than the last one.”
His eyes drop to my mouth while I’m speaking but I’m not sure why. Jonah doesn’t see me like that. He never looks at my mouth.
Maybe the way to his heart reallyisthrough his stomach.
“Can I keep this?” He retrieves the recipe from the countertop. “I might have Erma make a big batch for some friends of mine.”
Erma is his housekeeper and she’s an amazing cook. She’s the same age as my grandpa. I tried to set them up once before his Alzheimer’s got bad.
“Mmhm.” I’m temporarily stunned from the way he was openly watching my lips move. His eyes meet mine and our faces are still close enough to touch.
“Thanks. Don’t give the dogs any of my muffins,” he teases, finally breaking eye contact.
I glance down at my feet. Zeus gave up long ago but Achilles is still staring longingly up at me.
Jonah moves to exit the kitchen with the recipe in hand and my brain resumes full function once he’s out of my personal space.
“Jonah, wait.”
He turns, his hip bones doing that sexy V thing that make my mouth water.
“I actually need the recipe back.” My body shifts into panic mode as he regards me warily. “I’ll type you up a cleaner copy. I need to make a few adjustments anyway, maybe add some canola oil, and I can’t remember what website I got that one from.”
My heart is racing and my words are coming out on top of one another.
Jonah’s bewildered expression says I’m acting as crazed as I feel.
He doesn’t make a move to give it back.
“Jonah, seriously. Ineedthat one. Please.”
I have no poker face. I’m practically begging and that is not like me.
