My Best Friend’s Father Wants me novel Chapter 37

Enora:

I was in the kitchen with the ingredients. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to blurt out about cooking but here we were.

The ripe red tomatoes in the corner were staring at me. It was a basic Italian pasta dish. Nothing too serious. I had pulled off more difficult recipes but nothing with a hot boss standing behind me and looking over my shoulder.

“You do know what you are doing, right?”

I spun around and was slightly offended. Was he trying to insinuate that I wasn’t sure what I was doing? Rude!

“I can manage, thank you very much. It is just pasta. That’s like Italian 101.”

He chuckled and shook his head. That infectious smile of his. I would never get tired of it. He pulled a high stool and sat down and I got to work, trying my best to keep my knees under me.

Come on, Enora. You can do this. Where are the pots?

Pots clanged together as I rummaged through the cupboard. I had to find the right size. Ahah!

I pulled out a big saucepan. Pristine and polished, reflecting the light from the chandelier. This was perfect.

As I filled it with water, I felt the weight of his eyes on my shoulders. God, it made me even question if I was filling the pot properly. His gaze left me taut and speechless. I was never in the right headspace when he was looking at me.

The gas cooker clicked on but there was no flame. I did it over and over again but each time was just the same. No flame.

“Ouch! Fuck!”

My hand touched something hot as I waved my hand over the place the flame was supposed to be.

“Are you alright?”

Mr. Wright rushed to my side and took my hand gently, inspecting the area that was wet with my saliva.

I was fine. Burns were a normal cooking injury. The area was a little red. that was all.

“What kind of cooker is this? There isn’t a flame…”

He pulled me to the sink and ran my hand under the cool water. This was unnecessary but it was nice to have him fussing over me.

“It is a ghost flame cooker. The gas that produces the flame is an eco-friendly flame that burns clear or almost white. If there are particles in the fire, you will see a red or orange flame.”

His face looked stern as he explained. The tenderness in his touch and the concern in his eyes. My heart was pounding in my chest. Was I falling for this man all over again?

“How is your hand?” He asked, finally pulling my fingers from the cold running water. The redness had gone down and all that was left was a little stinging.

“I’m alright. Burns are a part of cooking.”

“Well, I don’t know my way around the kitchen but I am certain that you are not supposed to put your hand in the cooker to check if there is fire or not.”

My face flushed a deep pink. I felt so stupid right now.

He put the cooker on and helped set the saucepan of water on the gas cooker. I was in awe of this state-of-the-art flameless cooker. I wasn’t even convinced that the fire was really on until I saw the water start to bubble.

“Do you want me to help with anything?”

My heart skipped a beat and my jaw dropped slightly. He wanted to help?

His brown eyes were soft and expectant. My hands were fumbling with the knife and the tomato I had been cutting so well a few seconds ago.

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