Reading Online Novel

The Cowboy's Baby(25)



“When you said you worked in a restaurant, I assumed…” He trailed off, his expression turning sheepish. “I apologize. I just smelled your cooking from upstairs and I couldn’t help but come down. I’m starving. I…hope I’m not intruding.”

For a moment, the silence hung between them as Esme contemplated whether or not she could handle being in the same room with him when she so vividly remembered the burn of his mouth against her own. Slowly, she shook her head. “You’re not intruding.” It might have been the bravest thing she’d ever said, considering that she felt like she might jump the man at any moment and offend his sensibilities. “Go ahead and grab a plate. No, actually…” Taking a chance, she padded across the kitchen to push him gently out of the way. “Let me make you one. There’s just sauces and a bit of fresh ground pepper…it’s better this way…” She cast a cursory glance in his direction, trying to ignore the warmth of his body against hers. “Is that ok?”

“Perfectly fine.” The gigantic man gazed down at her as if he were seeing her in a new light, and Esme tried to quell the pride welling in her breast. How long had it been since she’d cooked for someone besides her mother? Years, really. Unless you counted restaurants stealing her recipes, that was.

She made each of them a plate with her rare filet mignon, the perfectly fried potatoes and the spinach, before pouring them each glasses of a merlot she’d come upon in the small wine section of the pantry. It would go perfectly with their meal, and her doctor had assured her that a tiny nip every once in a while wouldn’t hurt the baby.

It was slightly strange sitting at the table with Daniel for the first time, but the sense of surrealism was more than compensated for by the look of bliss on the man’s face upon his first bite of steak. Daniel’s eyes slid closed as his mouth shut around the fork and his expression was so much like what Esme imagined he might look mid-thrust that she squirmed slightly in her chair.

She had to force herself to take a bite of her own meal; relaxation came when her body sagged in her chair at the taste of the chili chocolate sauce and the delicate flavor of the beef. It wasn’t as if Daniel hadn’t been feeding her but this…this was absolute bliss.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Daniel’s eyes burned into her with a new interest that made her grin. If there was one thing she was confident about – one thing about which she could talk for hours on end – it was her love for cooking. In her enthusiasm, it was easy to forget that she and Daniel were supposed to be fighting their attraction for one another.

“A bit of culinary school, a bit of my own personal flair, a bit of my mother’s influence…a whole lot of different things thrown into one pot, really. You like it?”

“Understatement of the decade.” Daniel took another bite of steak, a low groan of pleasure escaping him. “This is better than I’ve had in some three star Michelin restaurants.”

Esme beamed with pleasure. “Really?”

“Without a doubt.” The man tucked into his meal with gusto. It took him under twenty minutes to finish everything on his plate – and Esme had piled it pretty high with a sizeable cut of filet mignon and plenty of veggies. “Is there more of this?”

Esme stared at him, awed, for a moment, by his mountainous appetite before she remembered to answer. “There’s plenty. I made a ton.”

“This is amazing, Esme. Really.” Rising from the table, Daniel went for another helping and Esme couldn’t help but gaze after the pert line of his behind. She then proceeded to watch him devour two more helpings of the food she’d prepared. Even she, who was eating for two, couldn’t have contemplated eating so much. When Daniel was finally done, leaning back in his chair to place his hands contentedly over his stomach, she was repressing laughter.

“When was the last time you had a home cooked meal, Daniel?”

He appeared to consider a long moment before he answered. “I can’t rightly recall. I don’t cook and Alyssa…she was certainly never into anything in the kitchen.” The man’s face fell for a moment and Esme’s stomach twisted. Without a doubt, the man was remembering his absent lover, which meant it was time for her to beat a hasty retreat.

Quickly, she gathered her plate and wine glass before walking along the length of the table to take his as well. “Well, I’m glad I could help.” When she made to head for the sink, she was stopped by a firm grip on her elbow. Daniel’s rough, calloused palm against her skin sent shivers of arousal down her spine.