21. Kelsey
Workingmy ass off through the beginning of the week helped keep me from thinking about how much I missed Oskar.
And God, did I miss Oskar.
I missed his smile. I missed his arms wrapped around me. I missed his mouth kissing me, saying my name, driving me crazy in bed. I missed sleeping next to him and hearing him murmur my name in his sleep. I even missed him teasing me mercilessly about anything and everything.
I could talk to him every day and it still didn’t take the place of the absolute rightness of being with him. I mean, it wasn’t as if I was walking through my day like a zombie or anything. I worked and went out with Felipe and Caroline. I was having a great time getting to know Hanna, but I missed Oskar in a very fundamental way.
I was writing furiously Tuesday night, trying to finish up my article about Fig in Sonoma before starting another about the modern resurgence of traditional preserving techniques and the ties with molecular gastronomy when I heard my phone.
I had already talked to Talia that morning and Oskar that afternoon, so I was a bit confused as to who could be calling. When I picked up my phone and saw Hanna’s name, I smiled. She must have just gotten back into town from her trip to China.
“Hey. How was your business trip?”
“It was excellent, and we’re going to make a lot of money.”
“That’s always good.”
“I have a conference call with my aunt in the city at nine o’clock tomorrow.”
“Wow, no day off?” I flipped through my notes. “When did you get back?”
“Earlier today. I don’t require recuperation time. I am an excellent traveler and quite capable of sleeping on planes. I should warn you that Oskar is not. He is a horrible traveler, particularly on long flights. You’ll need to bring sleeping pills and Imodium.”
I winced. “Thanks for the tip.”
“He claims that it is because he is so tall and planes aren’t made for men his size, but I simply think he’s delicate.”
Because delicate is so often a word I associate with your brother. “Well, the next time we fly to Denmark, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Did he ask you to fly to Denmark? That surprises me.”
“I was joking.” Hanna had a hard time detecting humor over the phone. “What’s up? I have an editorial meeting in the city tomorrow, so I’ll be at the office. Do you want to grab lunch?”
“That is why I was calling. I was going to see if you wanted meet me before you leave for the weekend. Are you still going down to see Oskar?”
“Yes. I might be able to leave tomorrow if my meeting finishes early. Don’t mention it if you talk to him though—I want to surprise him if I can.”
“That’s adorable. I have some spices that he requested I buy for him in Shanghai. Would you be able to take them down to the wilderness with you?”
“I would be happy to do that.”
Hanna had been quite clear that she did not share her brother’s affinity for small-town life. She thought it was odd and amusing since Oskar was raised in Copenhagen, but claimed that he always had a strange and disturbing affection for their summer cabin as a child.
She was a city girl through and through and claimed that San Rafael was as small town as she would ever be able to stand. She had actually been talking about moving into San Francisco now that housing prices had dropped.
“Just bring the spices to lunch tomorrow. I’ll make sure he gets them.”
“Where do you want to meet? I would eat anything but Chinese at this point.”
I thought about what I had heard was good this week. “How about One Market? It’s right there, and I usually like their fall menus.”
“That sounds fine. Shall I meet you around noon?”
“I’ll call in the morning and make a lunch reservation for us. I’ll text you the time.”
“Excellent. I’ll see you then.”
“Good night, Hanna.”
“Good night. Say hello to my brother if you talk to him tonight.”
“Sure thing.”
I hung up and wrote for few more hours. Right before I went to bed around midnight, I heard my phone chime, signaling a text.
Good night, Schmoopsy. Can’t wait to see you.
I texted back.
Good night at the restaurant?
It’ll be better when I’m going home to you in my bed.
I shivered at his obvious impatience. I really missed him, and now my dreams would be restless with the thought of being with him again.
Sorry. I just miss you a lot.
I love you. I love you. I love you so much.
I texted back.
I miss you too.
I’ll see you soon. I’m exhausted. Good night.
Kisses. Good night.
“Kelsey?”
I was straightening my notes from the meeting and shoving an odd card from the Heterochromia Iridum Awareness Foundation in my bag when I heard Octavia call my name. I fired off a quick text to Hanna and turned to face my boss.
“Hey! What’s up? I was so impressed by that new feature that Stan suggested for the physical edition. That’s so exciting.”
“People want to bump up the paper experience, so it’s a good fit. Surprised Stan came up with it; he’s usually more focused online.”
“He’s a smart guy.”
“I wanted to talk to you a little more about the Central Coast stuff you’re planning.”
I perked up when I heard that she wanted to talk about my plans. “Sure. Did you have any questions?”
“More some suggestions. You know, most of our readers are based in either the Bay Area or LA. A lot of them only see Central California as a place to stop for lunch halfway between civilizations.”
“I know, but there’s really so much more to Central California?—”
“I’m not disagreeing.” Octavia shook her head. “I think with the growing interest in heritage foods, you could be instrumental in making Central California a new food destination for a lot of readers. Play up all the history in the area. Bring in a personal focus. I know your family has been there a long time. Draw in all the different food cultures. Really emphasize the unique character of the area.”
“Absolutely.” I nodded. “That’s right in line with what I was thinking.”
“I’m excited to see what you come up with. I’m sort of surprised that you haven’t pushed for more coverage of that area before, considering your background. If these articles get a good response, I can see you spending a lot more time down there if that’s something you’d be interested in. I can always assign someone else, but they wouldn’t have your background.”
“I’m interested.” I stammered a little. “I’m glad you’re excited to see what I come up with. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with what you’re going to read.”
“I loved your article about your brother’s crush party. It was personal. Community focused. That’s just the kind of thing people are searching for. We didn’t even get pushback about featuring your brother’s winery.”
“I hope I was clear enough in the article.”
“You were, and you were thorough in covering other wineries as well. It was very well-done.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your confidence.”
“Not at all.” Octavia gripped her portfolio and looked at the tote bag I was packing. “Are you leaving tomorrow?”
“I think since we finished with everything before lunch, I might try to take off tonight. I’ll get there late, but I should miss traffic, which will be nice.”
“Have a productive weekend. And have fun.”
“Thanks, Octavia.” I heard my phone chime with a text back from Hanna.
Hurry up. I’m starving.
“Impatient Olsons,” I muttered. I threw my laptop in my bag and hustled out of the building, then briskly walked the few blocks to the restaurant, which was just at the foot of Market Street.
Hanna was already sitting next to the large panes of glass covering the front of the restaurant. I walked in and waved to the hostess, then pointed to Hanna at our table. The lively hum of the lunchtime crowd and the boisterous chatter coming from the bar area provided a cheery backdrop.
“Hey.” I quickly sat and glanced at the menu.
“I was about to send out a search party.”
“I’m only five minutes late.”
“And I’m hungry.” She didn’t look irritated as she perused the menu.
“My boss wanted to talk to me about some last-minute stuff for this weekend, go over my focus for the articles I’ll be writing. That kind of stuff.”
“Why do people need to talk about food so much? Isn’t it enough to just eat it? Well, eat lots of good food anyway. There was some secretary in the office eating noodles out of a cup today. It smelled horrible.”
I smiled. “Everyone’s different. Even I ate instant ramen in college occasionally.”
Hanna shuddered and looked at her menu. “What is good here?”
“I’m not a huge Caesar salad fan, but theirs is good. Their pumpkin ravioli is great. All their seafood is amazing. I’m going to have the spiny lobster since it’s not quite crab season yet.”
“How is the shaved-beef-tongue salad?”
“Excellent. Have you had beef tongue before?”
“Not in the United States.”
“Try it here. I think you’ll like it.”
After the waitress took our order, we were enjoying our drinks and I heard my name called from the bar area.
“Kelsey?”
I looked and saw Stan Brent, our online editor, standing awkwardly at the bar. I smiled and waved him over.
I’d always liked Stan. He was shy unless you were talking professionally. In that case, he was totally take-charge. He must have been around thirty, but he was already an editor and held a lot of sway at the Journal. He was also really cute, though totally not my type.
Today he was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a grey canvas jacket, open at the collar, with a plaid scarf hanging around his neck. His glasses framed a pair of green eyes set off by his curly brown hair. He looked like the high school computer nerd, grown up very nicely.
I turned to Hanna, noticing her raised eyebrow. It cracked me up sometimes how much her mannerisms mirrored Oskar’s. It was more than a little odd to see some of his most familiar expressions on Hanna’s completely feminine face.
I recognized that look of interest very well.
Hmm. I smiled to myself.
“Stan.” I nodded as he got to our table. “Good to see you. The meeting went so well this morning. I loved your idea for the online tie-in with the physical edition.”
“Of course. I hope it wasn’t too dull.” His voice wasn’t quiet, but it had a calming quality that made you lean in.
“Not at all. I’m excited to see how it goes. You’ll have your work cut out for you, convincing Marketing to let online influencers into the physical edition, but I think it’s smart.” I patted the chair next to me. “Want to join us for a drink? We have an extra chair.”
He glanced at Hanna. “That would be great. I was hoping to talk to you after the meeting, but I saw you were talking to Octavia and didn’t want to interrupt.”
He sat down stiffly at the table, and his eyes kept darting to Hanna, who was sitting across from him.
“Stan, I’m being rude. This is my friend, Hanna Olson. Hanna, this is Stan Brent—he works with me at the Journal.”
“Hanna, it’s…” He cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you.” Stan reached his hand across the table, a slight blush on his cheeks.
I’d never seen Stan interact with women. He was adorable. I sincerely hoped Hanna would not eat him alive.
She extended her hand regally. “I like meeting Kelsey’s friends. You’re quite socially awkward, aren’t you?”
My eyes flew open as I mentally screamed, “Muskrat!”
Stan, instead of looking embarrassed, leaned toward Hanna, and the corner of his mouth turned up. “And you’re quite blunt.”
“Yes.”
He nodded, his eyes intent on her. “What do you do in the city, Hanna?”
“I work for a textile company specializing in traditionally produced fabrics out of Asia sold to fashion houses in North America and Europe.”
“That sounds very interesting.”
“It can be.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that to be polite?”
“No. After all, I’m quite socially awkward.” Stan eyed Hanna up and down with a distinct look of male interest. In that moment, Stan Brent didn’t seem socially awkward at all. “I can see why someone so attractive would work in the fashion industry.”
And Hanna Olson blushed like a girl!
Stan turned to me after apparently rendering Hanna speechless and smiled at me with a satisfied look. “Are you two having lunch or just drinks?”
“Lunch.” I blinked at him. “You said you wanted a word with me?” I was still glancing at Hanna, awestruck at the understated power of Stan.
Who knew?
“Yes, I hope you don’t mind. Do I remember correctly that you live in San Anselmo?”
“I do. You live in the city, right?”
“Yes, but my grandmother recently moved to a retirement home in San Anselmo.”
“Oh. You must mean Mrs. French’s place. She’s lovely. I see residents sitting out on the porch most days.”
“That’s good to hear. She selected the place and she’s quite opinionated, so I’m sure she’s pleased with it. I’m taking her for brunch on Sunday, and I thought you might be able to recommend a nice place. Nothing too fancy. I’m not very familiar with the restaurants in the area.”
“I have friends with a little place on San Anselmo Avenue called Comforts Café. It would be perfect.” I gave him quick directions.
“That sounds amazing. Thank you. I’ll leave you to your lunch. Hanna, it was a pleasure meeting you.”
Hanna blurted, “I live in San Rafael.”
A slow, shy smile spread across Stan’s face, and I saw a hint of a color on his cheeks too. “Maybe I’ll run into you sometime in Marin when I’m there.”
“Maybe.” Hanna took a drink of her wine, effectively stopping any more imminent outbursts. “It was nice to meet you too.”
Stan nodded at us both and left the table as the waitress came with our plates. I looked at Hanna, my head cocked to the side.
She gave me a somewhat haughty look. “What?”
“Nothing at all.”
I wasout of the city by two o’clock and speeding down the highway, practically bouncing in my seat in anticipation of seeing Oskar after three weeks. He would be in the middle of dinner by the time I got there. I debated letting myself into his house with the hidden key like a good, nondistracting girlfriend or surprising him at the restaurant like an evil, horny girlfriend.
I probably should have waited for him at his house, but the evil, horny side was making some pretty damn good arguments.
I made a very quick stop at Josh’s before jumping back in my car and heading to Mesa where I parked on the street behind the restaurant.
Good, nondistracting girlfriend was obviously weak and had terrible debate skills.
I sat in the car for a moment, taking deep breaths and calming myself down a little after I found a parking spot next to Oskar’s truck. My heart was racing.
It was after seven o’clock on a Wednesday night, and there didn’t seem to be too many cars around the restaurant, so I hoped that he might be okay with me surprising him. I knew that if I went to his house, I’d be climbing the walls until he got home.
I saw a busboy carry out a bag of trash as I got out of the car, and I heard the clatter of the kitchen as the door opened. I waved at the young man, whose face was familiar even though I couldn’t remember his name. He smiled at me and shook his head, pointing toward the door.
I put my finger to my lips, and the busboy nodded as I slipped into the kitchen behind him. I leaned against the wall in the hall leading to the kitchen and listened to Oskar’s deep voice barking out orders.
“Victor, where are we with those steaks?”
“One medium, one medium-rare, one well-done, one nearly bleeding.”
“Okay, Chef, watch your heat.”
“Behind!”
“Two going out,” Oskar barked. “Hustle it, this four top is almost ready.”
“Bread for table five!”
“Who’s listening to Sophie? Listen to Sophie.”
A chorus of voices. “Yes, Chef.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, listening to him for a minute and soaking in the rampant testosterone pouring off the man. His voice wasn’t panicked; it was sure and steady, like he was the anchor that all the chaos swirled around.
When he ordered people around, it was hot. I didn’t know what that said about me as an independent woman, but Oskar barking orders in the kitchen was really fucking hot.
The four top went out, and I heard a lull in the action, so I peeked around the corner. Oskar had his back to me, tasting a sauce on the stove as Victor flipped the steaks on the grill, and a young man served some soup from a large pot on the stove next to Oskar. Victor saw me first, and a huge smile spread across his face.
Oskar noticed the grin. “Chef, what the fuck are you smiling at? Get back to work. That whole table wanted their steaks done differently. Pay some fucking attention to the grill.”
Victor tapped the counter with a spoon and pointed at me with his chin. Oskar turned, caught sight of me, and a look of pure lust took over. He took a deep breath, like a predator scenting prey. I stood there, staring at him with a smile on my face.
Never taking his eyes off me, he set the spoon down and threw the kitchen towel in his other hand on the worktable. “Victor, you got this?”
“Yes, Chef. Leslie, take the grill. Homero, move to sauces. I’m on it, Chef. Take off if you want.”
“Victor, do not fuck this up.”
“Yes, Chef. I won’t let you down.”
Oskar stalked to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the back door of the restaurant. He shoved the door open, spun me around, and pulled me into his chest in a rib-crushing hug. Then he turned us around, pushing me against the back of the restaurant as his mouth crashed down on mine. One hand gripped the small of my back as the other clutched my hair, controlling the angle of my mouth and cushioning my head from the onslaught as his kiss drove me into the wall.
I moaned into his mouth, clutching his back as one leg lifted to wrap around his thigh. He grabbed my leg, pulling it up to his waist and thrusting himself into me at the same time. I gasped at the grip of his hand and his hard arousal. His mouth left mine, trailing to my ear and biting the lobe before he growled. “Home. Now. Or I’m going to fuck you against this wall, Kelsey.”
I nodded, still speechless, and walked quickly to my car, grabbing the keys out of the pocket of my jeans. I heard Oskar following me, his long legs eating up the distance between us and the car at the far end of the parking lot. He reached it before me, slipping into the passenger seat and leaning over to shove the driver’s door open with a long arm.
I got in the car and started the engine before he grabbed me again and pulled my mouth toward his in a hard kiss.
“I have missed you so fucking much. You have no idea.”
“I’m starting to get an idea.” My heart was pounding out of my chest. “Trust me, the feeling is completely mutual.”
I backed out quickly, whipping my car around and racing out of the parking lot with his hand kneading my thigh. I rolled through a couple of needless stop signs on the short drive to his house. As we pulled into his driveway, he had the car door open before I could put it in park. By the time I turned the car off, he was there, opening my door and pulling me into his arms.
I let my fingers brush the front of his pants, and he hissed at the contact.
Oskar picked me up, wrapping his hands under my ass and pulling me into his hips as he walked toward his front door, grabbing the spare key from the bird feeder hanging on the front porch.
As soon as he opened the door and closed it behind us, he took possession of my mouth, stroking inside with his tongue. He tugged at my clothes. We moved to the kitchen, and he set me down on the edge of the counter.
“Fuck, Kelsey.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can be gentle right now.” His eyes were dark with lust, and his pulse pounded in his neck.
“It’s fine.” I gripped his shoulders. “More than fine.” My hand reached down to stroke his hard length behind his work pants. I grabbed at the button and pulled the zipper down before grasping him in my hand.
Oskar grunted when my fingers wrapped around his length. His mouth attacked my neck as his hands tugged at my shirt and pants.
I let go of him briefly to strip off my shirt, then lifted my hips as he pulled my pants off and dropped them on the floor. My underwear was next, and in no time I felt him push forcefully into me. He paused, rasping out a breath when he was finally buried in me.
I hissed at the welcome invasion, my legs wrapping around his thighs to pull him close. He put his arms around me, embracing me before moving us in a deep and desperate rhythm.
We drove each other, nothing leaving our mouths except gasps, panting breaths, and the occasional desperate moan.
As I fell apart around him, I finally cried out, “Oskar!”
“I can feel you.” He gripped my arm and growled as he came, grabbing my hips so hard that his hands probably left bruises. I didn’t care. I clutched his neck, kissing his throat as our breathing calmed down.
“Oh God.” I was panting. “Fuck me.”
“Did that.” His breath was coming hard too. “Might again.”
“Water.”
“Good. Yeah.”
Oskar reached up, his hands framing my face as he kissed my mouth, my cheeks, and my eyes where tears had pooled slightly in the corners. He made soothing noises, his thumbs brushing along the underside of my eyelids. “Shhh, I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I pressed my cheek to his. “I’m not sorry. I was with you the whole time. We both needed that.”
He looked down at me sitting on the edge of the counter naked, still gripping his hips with my legs. His pants were shoved down around his knees, and he still had his white jacket on.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I couldn’t even make it to the bedroom with you. I couldn’t even wait to take my clothes off.” Then a look of panic crossed. “I didn’t use a condom.”
It was my turn to calm him down. “It’s fine. Remember? I got the implant. I’m good. Don’t freak out, Chef.”
“Right.” His head collapsed on my shoulder as he let out a breath. “I mean, not that we wouldn’t be fine if something happened, it’s just not really what we need right now, you know?”
I hugged him, this strong man leaning on my shoulder as his arms clutched me to his chest. He pressed little kisses into my neck and along my ear as he nuzzled his face into my neck.
I loved him so much it made me lose my breath.
Oskar stood up. “I’m smothering you, aren’t I? Come on. We should go lie down.” He frowned. “I didn’t even ask if you’ve eaten. Are you hungry?” He pulled up his pants. “We can go back to the restaurant after it closes.” He raised a hand. “I don’t want to go back and listen to their bullshit right now, but I’ll make you something.” He helped me off the counter. “I don’t have a ton of food at the house. I haven’t been here all that much.”
He pulled away from me, smoothing my hair back and looking for my clothes, which were scattered around us.
“Oskar?” I smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.
He looked up. “Yeah?”
“Can we take a shower before we do anything else? I’m sweaty and… stuff. You’re hot from work, and I’m pretty sure I tasted some Worcestershire sauce on your neck just now.”
He smiled. “It’s a good thing you like steak sauce.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Is that supposed to be a gross guy joke?”
He laughed, and his beautiful blue eyes lit up. “I mean… maybe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Boys.”
He was still smiling. “I didn’t mean that, but it did sound pretty dirty under the circumstances.”
I held on to him as we walked to the shower. “I’m cool with incorporating food, but can we start with chocolate instead of Worcestershire sauce?”