Page 66 of Be My First

She points around the room, starting with an older couple. “This is Mark and Susan, from Idaho.”

We shake hands. Patrizia points to another couple. “Here’s Michael and Holly, from Boston. They are on their honeymoon.”

She continues. “Over here is August and Cynthia, they are from London.”

She gives a nod to a man standing beside her. “This is Justin. He is from Florida.”

We shake each of their hands and introduce ourselves. Patrizia claps her hands together and says, “Who is ready to get started?”

She gives us a short tour. The kitchen area is beautiful. Huge windows pour light in. The set up reminds me of that English cooking competition. We each have a counter space with our own oven, sink, and stove. She motions for us to follow her outside. Large glass doors lead out to a garden – filled with herbs and vegetables. The whole lot is surrounded by an old stone fence. She guides us all the way to the back of the property to a small orchard. Once we all arrive, she points out each tree – a few citrus trees, apricot, cherry, and fig.

“Wow,” Bode says under his breath. “I don’t even have words.” I completely agree – I'm speechless right now. It’s so beautiful and smells amazing out here.

“Let’s get cooking,” Patrizia says. “Follow me.”

We make our way to the kitchen.

Apparently, Bode and I have been pared up. She probably thinks we’re a couple. That’s fine. Might work to my advantage, actually.

“Who is excited?” she says.

There’s a few cheers and whistles.

Patrizia directs us to pull supplies from the pantry and fridge and get our workspace prepped. As soon as we are ready, Patrizia begins making the pasta. She goes slowly and explains each step in great detail. She gives us lots of time to follow each step. When it’s time to mix the dough, Bode rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. I stare at his forearms for a moment. Good lord, why are they so sexy? I’m practically drooling. I’d really like to wrap my hands around them. He’s so much bigger than me.

“You okay?” He’s caught me staring. How embarrassing.

I’m just going to pretend I wasn’t, so I quickly say, “Did you want to mix?”

“It’s up to you” he says.

“Go ahead,” I answer.

I watch him dive his hands into the flour and egg mixture and start to gather it together, and I literally start sweating just watching him. It starts to slowly come together into a dough. He continues to mix the dough by hand just like Patrizia’s demonstration – god, somehow this is more erotic than that damn erotic art museum we went to.

He’s so focused. His movements are a mix of strong and gentle. He’s focused and detail oriented. I know I’m staring at him like I’d like to devour him. Thankfully, he’s not paying attention to me because he’s too focused on the task at hand.

When he’s finished, we run the pasta through the machine to get it nice and thin and cut it following along to Patrizia’s demonstration. Once the pasta is hanging up to dry, we both take turns washing our hands.

Justin walks over and inspects our work. “Looks perfect. You can’t possibly be beginners.”

I laugh. “First timer.”

“Virgins, I never would have guessed,” he says, and I laugh nervously.

He gives me a flirty smile and then lets his eyes fall down my body. He’s very openly checking me out. I don’t mind.

Interesting. Maybe Bode isn’t my only prospect while I’m here?

“I’m Justin,” he says.

Bode jumps in. “We know. We met you already.”

His tone is icy. I turn to see Bode glaring at Justin.

Justin doesn’t act phased at all. “Oh, I know. We just didn’t meet one on one.”

Bode doesn’t really acknowledge what he’s said, but Justin holds his hand out anyway. I take it. “Juno and the grumpy one is Bode.”

---