Page 28 of Chef's Kiss

“A boy or a girl?”

“Too early! Wow, somebody’s excited.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the best news since, ‘I do’, and that was the best news since you accepted my proposal.”

*****

Charlotte

I just look up at him from my tucked in position on the couch, feeling so comfy and loved. Without even needing to tell him, the most important parts of my life are the most important moments in his. He loves me just as much as I love him.

And my passion is his passion. Cooking, and the joy that goes around with sharing a meal with the one you love. I guess that’s why we cook each afternoon for the show, and then come home and have our four hour dinners, followed by four plus hours of passionate love making, hanging from the chandelier sex, and snuggling afterwards…until we start right back up again.

“And it’s the best news for me too, because I know you’re going to be the best father ever.”

“Which I’d never even have a chance to be without the best mother ever…you.”

I melt into him just like that expensive caramel on the popcorn in front of us. That popcorn sure tastes great, but nothing tastes as good as when his lips find mine.

And there’s another lesson buried in that popcorn bowl. No matter how amazing a life you can have, how incredible the food is you can make, nothing compares to the one thing in life that’s free.

Love.

And when he runs those thick, calloused fingers through my hair and his kiss grows deeper it’s clear these two chefs are about to make things steamy, knowing we’ve got our first bun in the oven.

No need to set the timer though, we’ve got all night. Scratch that…we’ve got a lifetime. Together.

“I love us,” he growls into my mouth, his hand rubbing my belly.

“I love us too.”

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

Charlotte

Seven years later

“These cookies are going to go right to my booty,” I say, pulling open the oven and pulling out the chewy chocolate chip goodness on a lazy Sunday morning.

“Good, that just means I can—“

“Christian!” I warn and he stops, remembering he’s gotta tone it back when Charles and Chloe are in the room.

He keeps telling me to eat more, that it’s a compliment to the chef, plus he likes me a little heavier so he can really let loose in the bedroom. Sometimes he looks at me like he’s afraid he’s going to break me, which is absolutely absurd, even though the man sure does know how to take me to the edge of an incredible thrusting session, only to make me feel more alive than I ever thought humanly possible.

But what really makes me feel alive is my kids.

“Mom! let me have one,” Chloe cries out, rising up on her tiptoes to sneak one from the plate.

“Carefully, honey, they’re hot.”

Charles, a more experienced cookie thief, wisely uses his finger to slide one off the tray before he runs off into the other room before we notice him. Oh, we notice alright, it’s just that we think it’s cute. It’s like he’s a dog that found a secret bone and wants to go eat it in peace. The boy has some strange habits that crack us all up.

“Where have you been?” Christian asks him not thirty seconds later as he re-enters the kitchen, chocolate smeared all over his lips and fingers.

“I just went to wash my hands so that I might be able to enjoy a cookie, father.”

Christian and I look out at each other and bust out laughing. “What are you English now? Where in the world did those impeccable manners come from?”

“I’m calling his English teacher and giving her a raise.”

“I think it’s the Harry Potter we’ve been reading to him each night.”

“Whatever it is it’s working,” Christian says, looking down at his hands. “But I don’t think the soap you use is working,” he says, flipping his hands over and exposing the chocolate smeared all over them.

“How’d that get there?” Charles asks.

“Uh huh,” I say. “How in the world did that happen?”

I wink at Christian who scoops up Charles and sits him at the table next to Chloe, while I grab four glasses of milk.

“You need a bigger glass, honey,” Christian tells me. “You’re eating for two, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” I say with a smile and a bit of a playful exhale. All Christian talks about these days are the twins, which are on the way. Well, it’s all he talks about when he’s not talking about Charles or Chloe, or me.

His office at work is covered with pictures and drawings the kids made. He’s one heck of a proud papa, and I never forget how lucky I am to have him, even though he says he’s the lucky one to have me.

“Mom, are you a cat?” Chloe asks.

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