Page 107 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

Now free, Mara practically leaped out of bed, rushed naked to the ensuite bathroom, and sat down on the toilet groaning in relief. Much better.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she looked at herself in the mirror while she brushed out the giant tangle that was her hair. Her eyes were bright, despite just waking up, and she looked like a sexually satisfied woman. Mara stifled a giggle so as not to wake Chris, and her cheeks hurt with her wide smile. If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to this.

But should she? Once this competition was over, Chris would be moving on to other things.Cooking with Chriswas filmed in New York City. She lived in Glenford. The commute would be horrible and expensive. Plus, she had plans, dammit, that required she stay here.

She needed to be realistic. Once the winner was declared, Chef Chris would move on and continue to do chef-y things and Mara would pretend that everything was fine while she nursed her second broken heart thanks to Chris Denton.

In the meantime, she could enjoy their time together and get as many orgasms as possible before it was time to say goodbye. With that decided, she exited the bathroom to find Chris had rolled over and was sprawled across the bed. The sun’s rays blanketed the bed, giving him an angelic look.

As quickly as that thought hit, she snorted. If the last thirty-six hours told her anything, it was that Chris Denton was anything but angelic. She briefly debated climbing back into bed, but her stomach growled. Nope. She had a better idea. Grabbing the T-shirt he had on yesterday, she pulled it over her head before heading into the kitchen to get breakfast started.

She had the batter for pancakes mixed and the bacon in the oven, and was enjoying her coffee from another snazzy coffee maker when Chris exited the bedroom, wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and a tee with his show’s logo on it. Grabbing the mug she had waiting for him, she poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the counter so he could reach it.

His butt hit the bar stool under the counter with a thump and he closed his eyes while he sipped his drink.

“It smells amazing in here,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize I had bacon in the fridge.”

Mara checked on the bacon before adjusting the remaining time, and they both took a deeper smell while the oven door was open. “It’s the good stuff too, from Glenford Hoof and Claw. They source everything from small local farms. There’s even a farm that’s producing American Wagyu beef now.”

"Have you ever tried Olive Wagyu? When I was in Japan for a publicity event for my first cookbook, I was invited to tour one of the cattle ranches, and Chef Ishhii created an amazing meal serving up a ribeye. It’s one of those experiences you have to try at least once, but I know I wouldn’t want to eat it every day.”

“Too rich?”

Chris rubbed his hand up and down his chest and stomach, distracting her enough that Mara almost overcooked the first round of pancakes. “Very. It was a great treat. It had that nutty, grassy taste that olives have and the fat and meat just melts in your mouth. He’d paired it with some locally grown root vegetables. The presentation was minimalistic, but the taste was anything but.”

Mara flipped the next set of pancakes onto the plate and covered it to keep them warm while she finished cooking the scrambled eggs. “That sounds amazing. Will it make me sound like too much of a small-town girl if I admit that I’ve never left the country?”

Standing up to pour himself another cup of coffee, Chris leaned across the counter where Mara had set down the bacon she’d just pulled from the oven and snatched a piece. Popping it into his mouth, he smacked his lips before answering her. “When we were in high school, we’d talked about traveling the world. How come you never did?”

Mara began plating the food to give her a moment to figure out how to word her answer. Scooping the scrambled eggs out of the pan, she added some coarse salt and fresh ground pepper along with some finely sliced scallions before adding bacon and the pancakes. Setting it in front of him, she slid the cutlery toward him along with the maple syrup bottle she’d had sitting in a warm water bath before joining him at the bar with her own plate.

“I’d like to say money, which I know was never an issue for you. But truthfully, I’d started working in Dizzy’s Diner over on Lincoln right after high school, and I got so swept up in learning how to bake, and then cook, I think I was twenty-five before I even stopped to take a vacation, and that was to attend a culinary convention in New Orleans.”

“We used to eat there on Sundays after church. They made the most amazing bread and oh! Those pickles that sat on every table were always so crunchy and fresh tasting. Whatever happened to them? When I drove past coming into town, there was a discount store there.”

“Dizzy died, and his son decided he didn’t want to run a restaurant. He sold the property and moved out of state. We haven’t had a decent bread baker in this town since.”

They both dove into their food, and it was silent for several minutes while they ate. Mara was hungrier than she thought, and she kept pace with what Chris was eating. When her angry stomach pangs stopped, she slowed down. “Dizzy is the person I credit for getting me interested in baking. I started working there as a helper in the bakery, and I fell in love with it. He was an amazing teacher, and he was happy to teach me.”

“So that explains your comment on our first day about spending time in the right kitchen to learn everything you need to know.” He elbowed her and gave her a smile.

Mara cringed. “Yeah, that was a bitchy thing to say to a bunch of culinary students. But.” She held up her hand to emphasize her next comment. “With the right teacher, it is a great way to learn.”

Chris reached across the counter to snag more bacon and set two more slices on her plate. “True, but culinary school offers other skills that you might not get working in a kitchen with a limited menu.”

Chomping on the bacon, Mara swished the last of her pancake in the remaining syrup on her plate before eating it with the bacon. “Where did you learn how to cook? From your mom?”

He shook his head, and Mara felt him tense a bit before forcibly relaxing. “I got interested the summer after I moved in with Uncle Mitchell. I was angry and feeling lost and there was only so much he and my cousins could do. There were days I just couldn’t stand to be in my own skin, so I’d wander around the hotel, where we lived, and eventually found my way to the kitchen. The head chef saw my anger and got me interested in cooking and it took off from there. By the time I graduated high school, I’d decided to enroll in culinary school. My excitement and love of cooking took off from there.”

They finished eating, and Mara grabbed the plates to put in the dishwasher, and Chris jumped up to help, reminding her of their first day of shooting. Or to be exact,after. She could feel her cheeks heating as a blush came on but thankfully, he didn’t notice.

“I’m stuffed,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “I’m thinking Netflix and chill. What about you?”

Mara laughed, shaking her head. They’d had more sex in the last thirty-six hours than she’d had in three years. Not that she was counting. Except she was totally counting. “Well, I’d entertain Netflix, but any sort of chill will have to wait until my stomach settles. More than likely, it will be Netflix and nap.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, which did things to her stomach. Good things. “So nap now, chill later. Got it. Why don’t you grab the throw blankets in the bedroom while I cue up a movie.”

“Just so long as it’s not a horror movie.” Mara grabbed a couple of pillows and the blankets, and when she joined him back in the living room, he had a movie queued up. When she saw the title, she chuckled to see it was about cooking.

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