And he smelled amazing.
“Here we are,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the large sign on the door didn’t have to come here.”t Sr they had stopped in front of.
Couple’s Cooking Class: Saturday Evenings, 6:30 p.m.
As Lauren read it, a slow smile broke over her face.
“I figured any guy could take you out to dinner, but how many guys can cook you a gourmet meal?”
“Impressive,” she said, looking up at him. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“Oh…well, I can’t, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand and shrugging. “Hence this class.” Lauren laughed as he added, “But it still counts, right?”
He reached for the door and released her hand, placing his on the small of her back as she walked into the large room. There were about ten cooking stations, complete with stoves, appliances, measuring cups and spoons, and some ingredients already lined up on the counter space.
“Welcome!” beamed a middle-aged woman from the front of the room. “Have you signed up in advance for this evening’s class?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “Adam Wells.”
The woman looked down through the glasses balanced precariously on the tip of her nose, scanning a clipboard. “Ah yes, here you are. Excellent! Help yourselves to any open station,” she said, gesturing grandly toward the room.
There were five other couples already scattered at various stations, and they all smiled and nodded in greeting as Adam and Lauren made their way to the empty station on the far right of the room.
“This was a great idea,” Lauren said as they settled in. “Thank you.”
“A thank you before the date even begins? Does this mean I no longer have to fear a bathroom exodus?”
Lauren smiled as she went up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And when she pulled back, the look in his normally playful eyes was now something else all together, and it turned the warmth in her belly into a full-blown inferno.
“Okay ladies and gents,” the woman called from the front of the room, breaking the spell. “I think we have everyone for tonight, so let’s get started.” With a quick clap of her hands, she added, “If you’ll please head to the bin in the back of the room and grab yourselves an apron.”
They walked to the back amid the other couples, each grabbing an apron out of a large container. Lauren slid hers over her head as she walked back toward their station, tying it behind her back as she went. She looked down as she smoothed her hands over the front of it, noticing the white letters scrawled over the red fabric: Kiss the Cook.
“Can you give me a hand?” she heard Adam ask, and she looked over to see him with his back to her, his normally dexterous hands fumbling with the flimsy strings.
“A chiropractor with inept hands?” she sighed, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. “I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars you transferred me to someone competent.” She pulled the strings out of his struggling fingers and began tying.
Adam turned to look at her over his shoulder. “You think my hands are inept?” he asked, and Lauren shrugged, fighting a smile, her knuckles grazing the firm muscles of his back as she tied the apron.
“That’s good,” he said with a nod, turning away from her again. “That might work in my favor.”
shoulder">“Oh? How is that?” she asked, finishing up the bow, and he turned toward her; the mischief in his eyes belied his innocent expression.
“Because proving you wrong could be kind of fun.”
Lauren’s stomach twirled with something she couldn’t quite place as she looked up at him, but before she could respond, her eyes dropped to his chest. She burst out laughing, cupping both her hands to her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound.
He pulled his brow together and looked down. “Ah, crap,” he said through a groan, shaking his head as his laughter combined with hers.
On the front of his white apron was the outline of a cartoon woman’s body, her obscenely large breasts bursting out of a tiny bikini top and her thighs swelling out of an equally skimpy bottom. Adam looked up sheepishly as he held his hands over his cartoon breasts, attempting to hide them, which only made Lauren laugh harder.
“Switch with me,” he said.
“Not on your life,” Lauren said through her laughter. “Besides, it looks good on you. Who would have thought you were so voluptuous under those scrubs?”
Adam lifted his eyebrows. “How long have you been thinking about what’s under my scrubs?” he challenged.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, now that we are all properly attired, let’s begin!” the teacher said. “If you’ll have a look at the folder on the right side of your station…” Adam leaned around Lauren to grab the folder, bringing his chest flush with her back.
“Saved by the bell,” he whispered in her ear, and she felt a faint shiver run down her spine that was as pleasant as it was unexpected.
She should have known better by now; no matter how many times she thought she had him trumped, he always seemed to end up with the upper hand.
And she liked it. A lot.
Adam opened the folder and took out the papers inside, spreading them out on the counter and following along as the teacher went over the menu for the evening. Or rather, their assignment. Smoked salmon and crème fraiche bruschetta for an appetizer, filet mignon with a red wine mushroom sauce over sautéed spinach and baby carrots for the main course, and a cinnamon peach crumble with vanilla ice cream for dessert.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, his eyes scanning the paper in front of him.
“A little out of your element?” Lauren asked, feeling a bit nervous herself as she scanned the recipe.
“There’s a pizza place right down the road,” he said, putting the paper down and looking up at the teacher. “If this takes a turn for the worse, we hit it up on the way home.”
“Deal,” Lauren laughed, turning to look at the teacher as she held up a knife and explained the proper way to dice a tomato.
About an hour and a half later, they were seated in the adjacent room, which was set up to look like a makeshift restaurant, complete with linens and good silverware and candlelight. The couples all sat, waiting to be served the meals they had just prepared for themselves.
“I’m telling you, you’ve found your calling,” Lauren said as Adam poured them each a glass of wine.
“Don’t get smart,” he said, glancing up at her with a smirk as he placed the bottle back on the table.
“I’m not! I thought you were great in there. Well, except for the whole carrot thing.” lives far away.”
Adam laughed, shaking his head. He had started to chop them, not realizing the recipe called for them to be served whole, and each time he brought the knife down on the raw carrots, tiny pieces would shoot off the cutting board in different directions, like rogue missiles, hitting Lauren and at times the couple in front of them. Finally, the teacher came over and laid a placating hand on his wrist, telling him it was unnecessary for the recipe, and Lauren had to focus extremely hard on sautéing the spinach to keep from laughing.
“Oh, and the onion thing,” Lauren added, smirking before she took a delicate sip of wine.
“You know, a lesser man’s ego would be bruised by all these backhanded compliments.”
“Good thing you’re not a lesser man, then.”
Adam smiled, lifting his glass to hers, and she clinked it softly. “And besides,” he said, “you were the one who assigned me the onions to chop. You could have mentioned it’s a step below getting maced.”
Lauren laughed. “Why do you think I passed the job to you?”
Adam narrowed his eyes at her. “Cruel.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
He raised his brow before he smiled. “Fair enough,” he said as a server brought their appetizers to the table.