Chapter 17
Making soaps is a labor of love. One I genuinely enjoy. The ingredients I ordered online have arrived, plus some other things I needed, like molds and cutters. Shipping my old stuff was so expensive, so it was better to repurchase some of the items.
Alexandra wasn’t kidding when she said patience isn’t her strong suit. A few days ago, Ethan came to see Lionel about some pending issues. I took the opportunity to send her some samples I received from home. Then, my new friend transformed, the sweet and smiling woman was replaced by a cavalry general in charge with an arsenal of bubbles in this case.
I need to deliver an order for two hundred and forty soaps in six different fragrances to Alexandra as soon as humanly possible. The PR company she manages is throwing a party for their clients and new prospects. She wants my soaps for the swag bags. As the owner of a growing business, I’m extremely grateful for the opportunity and committed to delivering everything to meet her expectations.
The quantity itself is quite manageable, as a dozen soaps come out of each mold, and I ordered twenty of them. Right now, all the ingredients are scattered on the granite countertops in Lionel’s large kitchen. To manage all this, I’ve decided to make three mixes a day. That way, I’ll have time to study in the mornings with the online math tutor.
After lunch, when Lionel locks himself in his office-cave, I’ll tend to my soaps and when the sun starts disappearing on the horizon, we could spend some time together, like we have been doing for the last couple of days. Sometimes we cuddle on the terrace, other times we watch old movies while laying on his ratty sofa. The other night, while sharing a bowl of popcorn, we watched Sister Act. It’s been a long time since I laughed so hard.
Also for a few hours a day, I try to continue with my work while the therapist comes to do some exercises to help restore movement in Lionel’s arm, my eyes always end up wandering to his chest and biceps. It’s inevitable, the temptation is far too great for a girl to resist.
Cut me some slack.
Lionel has also started swimming, it’s a delight for my eyes. I’ve been lucky he hasn’t caught me checking him out while he dives into the water and I drink my tea. Being isolated in an empty house is really playing with my willpower. Add to the mix that we continue to sleep in the same bed together.
Despite the barriers that continue to separate us. No, I don’t mean the wall of pillows we build every night in his king-size bed. I’m talking about the fact that we are taking this slow, trust is a difficult canvas to fix.
Although we are on the long way to accomplish it, it’s a task Lionel has taken quite seriously.
On the countertop, the ingredients are organized by portions. Today, the three batches I’m mixing are honey with lavender, honey with glycerin, and honey with oatmeal. Yes, there is a common theme here, anyone can tell what it is. I was concerned about making them with honey that wasn’t from my hive, but Lionel somehow arranged for my mother to send me a good quantity in several glass containers transported by ground, not by air. How was it possible? Only my husband knows.
My husband in name, not in full use of all his husbandly rights—so far. We have made quite a bit of progress, and I know he’s still working from home to spend more time with me. Although he’s still recovering, he’s doing very well, and the security Ethan has deployed around him could well compete with the Secret Service.
I go over my list once again, it’s better to double-check before starting to avoid making a mistake in the middle of the process. On top of that, I want to test a new recipe, so I’ve ordered two more items from my favorite essential oils’ supplier.
It’s something I’ve never done before, but life is full of challenges, and right now, I feel confident enough to try.
Before I even start, I put on my apron and protective glasses—safety is always a priority. First step, mix the caustic soda with water and stir it well. For this, I help myself with an immersion blender. The process releases a lot of heat, hence the lenses, to protect the eyes. Don’t try this at home without adult supervision, kids. I repeat the process three times, for each of my fragrances in separate containers, and as soon as it’s cooling, it’s time to add the honey.
The base is ready, ladies and gentlemen.
Very carefully, in another container, I mix the essential oils to add them to the base, again helped with the mixer, until it’s a soft gel.
“Whatever you are mixing smells so good, it must be some kind of dessert,” says Lionel, scaring me shitless. His hands are on my hips. I couldn’t hear him before because of the mixer’s noise, let’s not forget about his ninja skills. “I want the biggest slice.”
“It’s not dessert,” I correct him. “It’s the first batch for Alexandra’s order.”
Lionel kisses me on the shoulder. Even though his lips have touched me over my clothes, my body still shudders. That is the effect this man has on me.
“Get out of here,” I rebuke him. I don’t think I’ll make much progress with him distracting me. “I’m working.”
He knows what he’s done, of course, a smirk is drawn on his lips as he moves around the bar where we eat every day and sits on one of the stools. He looks so delicious I could stop what I’m doing and eat him up with a spoon.
“In fact, I think there’s something we need to discuss.” Hearing those words, all the blood sinks to my feet.
I’m already bracing for the same argument. Lionel has always given my business very little support, seeing it as insignificant, something that would end with more losses than profit.
Lionel opens his mouth and stops for a moment while I hold the blender tightly to help me defend against the attack to come.
“Alexandra’s company party is quite important. ARC PR represents a lot of celebrities and athletes.” I know that and it’s the reason why I’m so stressed about doing all this. It has to be perfect. “I think you should have your website ready by then. I’m sure that when those celebrities and influencers try out your soaps, they’re going to be looking all over the place for you.”
I’m also aware of that, therefore, I already found out how to open my store in a well-known portal that sells handmade products and supplies. The process is quite simple. I just need a few photos to upload. And I plan to do it as soon as the soaps are ready, with the help of the super camera on the phone I’m still using on loan. Although Lionel says it’s all mine.
“I know,” I reply, trying to seem uninterested. The truth is, I’m trembling inside.
“I hired this smart IT guy, the boy is creative and has good resources, the latest technology. Why don’t we ask Hadley to set up a meeting, let Braxton put together something nice for you, so you can focus on doing what you love without having to bother with the more technical details? We could even hire a photographer to take over, I know from experience that image sells, you have to show what the potential buyer expects to see.”
My jaw almost hits the floor. Did he just say that he was going to help me?
“Did you just say you’ll make your company’s resources available to me?”
This change of mind is amazing, almost unbelievable.
“There’s also the tax issue, my accounting department can help you handle that…” His words transform into a haze that only allows me to see him.
The center of my world.
I remember Alexandra’s words and I’m truly allowing him to redeem himself, however, Lionel never ceases to amaze me. It’s one thing to let me do what I want and quite another to actively help me.
“And since the honey you produce is so special,” he continues as my jaw keeps hanging open. “I think it would also be an amazing opportunity to list pure honey for sale. What do you think?”
I still can’t process what he just told me.
“Are you speechless?” He looks at me and smiles, I can hardly blink. Something in my brain has short-circuited. “Do you want me to call Braxt?”
“Mmm…” Of course, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is something so smart. “You want to do that for me?”
My voice is barely audible. He’s taken my breath away.
“I’d do anything for you,” he says quickly, without hesitation. Honesty shining in those deep brown eyes.
Whilst I can hardly admit it, this Lionel in front of me has been a great surprise, even though what happened was horrible—it certainly was. But now, I understand what my mother told me so many times, everything happens for a reason and maybe we needed a good shake to save our relationship.
I wish I had the wisdom to understand all this mess, meanwhile, I settle for knowing not everything is lost. That there’s still something here to save.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy,” he growls. “You may be set on conquering the world alone, but I’ll always be here to support you, Stella. I could shower you with lavish gifts, but I know that’s not what you truly want. Your determination and drive are what I admire, and as the man who stands by your side, I’ll do everything in my power to be there when you reach the pinnacle of success.”
Swoon!
“Lionel,” Struggling to speak, my throat constricts as I stare into his expectant eyes. His straight hair cascades over his forehead like a powerful lion’s mane, and the sight of him is devastating.
With trembling hands, I reach out for him, desperate for any form of contact. In this moment, I need to feel his soul intertwining with mine, a reminder that we are in this together. And every day brings us closer to the moment when we must cross the Mississippi, a mission he has placed above all else.
But as I gaze at him now, I see the fierce determination in his eyes and know that nothing will stand in his way. Our fate is sealed, and our journey will soon reach its climax.
“What do you say, Hvězda ? Shall we call Braxton?”
“What does that mean?” I want to know.
Lionel adjusts himself in the seat to take out his phone from the side pocket of his shorts.
“Means you’re going to have your website up and running.”
Very funny, Mr. Kral, very funny.
I roll my eyes before answering him. “What does hvězda mean, you have called me that several times?”
“Star in Czech,” he replies. “My grandparents were immigrants. My father spoke the language fluently, and although due to my limitations, I could never learn it. I do know a few phrases and words. Your name also means star.”
“Oh Lionel, what am I going to do with you?”
“Be happy,” he concludes before I make my way around the counter and kiss him gently on the lips.
These last few days we have been like two horny teenagers, touching each other over our clothes. What was supposed to be a short kiss turned into a tangle of hands looking for bare skin. His fingers undo the knot of the apron at my back, then pull it off over my head, his lips detaching from mine just long enough for the fabric to fly off.
Someone has poured hot oil all over my skin, I’m burning, which reminds me…
“Lionel,” I mumble, gasping for air.
“Yes?” he replies, his lips tracing a downward path down my chin.
“Lionel, my mixtures.”
There it is, the proverbial bucket of cold water falling on us, tearing us apart.
I hear him growl something that sounded like, “You’re such a tease,” as I run to see what happened to what I had so carefully mixed.
“You’re lucky your head is still in place because they’ve only just started to cool down,” I accused, pointing a finger at him.
“Okay, Red Queen,” he teases. “Put me to work, so I can have you all to myself quicker.”
We don’t waste time. Acting fast, we pour the mixtures into the molds. I can do it by myself, but with his help it makes it really quick.
“Push slowly but firmly back there,” I instruct him. Lionel is behind me helping with the longest circular mold, which is tricky.
Lionel holds the wooden tube into which I slowly pour the mixture, taking care there are no bubbles. I like my soaps smooth, showcasing the purity of the ingredients, after all, they are organic and of the highest quality.
“And I thought that the sweet spot for kinky stuff was after the first year of marriage. You surprise me, Stella.”
His body is glued to mine, so much so that I swear he can feel how fast my heart beats.
God, who turned off the air conditioning in the house. I don’t remember it being so hot.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” I change the subject to something easier to handle.
“You’re tired, you’ve been at it for a long time. Why don’t you let me take care of that?”
The pitcher in my hands, which helps pour the mixture into the mold so that it doesn’t spill, almost falls out. Luckily, Lionel reacts quickly and balances the mold with his hand.
But something is very clear. Cooking isn’t his thing.
“What are we going to have for dinner? Frozen lasagna?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, smiling a little.
He makes a face, pretending to be offended. “Why, Mrs. Kral…” I love when he calls me that. “This old lion has his tricks. I’m a prodigy at making PB&J, as well as pressing the microwave buttons. You just relax, and I’ll take care of it.”
Rather than putting everything in perspective, the attack has completely changed him. The person in front of me is a new man. I love this amended, edited, and deluxe version. Not to mention his hard, defined muscles.
“Let’s get this over with first,” I tell him, moving the container a little so the mixture reaches the bottom. “We’ll talk about relaxing later.”
“Your wish is my command, my lady,” he says with a gentlemanly bow.
What I’ll give for him to undress and present his sword.
A girl can dream.
Half an hour later, we’re finished filling the molds that I had ready earlier. Like every night after dinner, Lionel helps me clean, only this time instead of food, there are essential oils and other supplies for soap-making.
As we organize the things on an empty shelf in the pantry, Lionel, as curious as ever, starts to open the essential oil bottles.
“This smells great,” he says, with the bergamot essential oil bottle in his hands. “What’s it for?”
My plan has been unveiled.
“I’ve been thinking about creating a line of soaps for men,” I confess. “Not necessarily for Alexandra’s party, but in the future. It may turn out well. Don’t you think?”
He smells the vial again, this time with more interest. “Do you know what you’re going to blend it with?”
“Mint and bergamot mix well, and honey, of course.”
Lionel closes the bottle and smiles, staring at me. “Well, I’ll be your guinea pig then.”
“You want to smell like me?” I ask him, the double meaning does not escape either of us.
“You have no idea how much.”
???
After leaving dinner in Lionel’s hands, I go upstairs for a long, well-deserved shower. Lionel said I shouldn’t go downstairs before eight-thirty or I’ll ruin the surprise, so I have plenty of time to call Valerie. It seems like we haven’t spoken in centuries. I drop onto the bed with the phone to my ear.
“It was about time you remembered us—the poor folk,” she says after answering the second ring.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I rebuke her. The sunset has tinted the white ceiling of the room we shared since we left the hospital ten days ago pink and orange. “I’ve been busy.”
“I imagine, with that husband of yours, he must be keeping you very busy , hussy…”
Valerie isn’t Lionel’s biggest fan, she was my only confidant and she knows of all the problems we had back in Carrollton.
“Lionel has changed a lot, Valerie,” I begin to explain. “This very afternoon he offered to help me establish my online store.”
I hear a gasp come from the other end of the line. “Well, it seems he has changed, now let’s see how long it lasts.”
“Valerie,” I scold her, I imagine her running her hands through her red hair. “Lionel has really changed. I’ve been talking to this woman who knows him well. Her husband is one of his closest friends, the one in charge of his security.”
I tell her what Alexandra and I talked about. To her credit, I must say that Valerie listens to me, although in the end she adds, “Just be careful, I don’t want your heart to break again. As you tell me, this new Lionel isn’t just dangerous, he’s lethal.”
When Lionel comes up for a shower, I’m still on the phone talking to Valerie, this time onto lighter topics. She tells me about the latest town gossip, about the planning for the cleaning day on the river and things like that. Valerie is enrolled in many committees. In Carrollton a leaf of a tree doesn’t fall without her finding out.
“Are you ready?” Lionel asks me when he comes out of the bathroom. He’s dressed quite casually, worn jeans that fit him well and a gray T-shirt that hugs all the muscles in his chest.
He reaches out his hand, and I take it without thinking.
“What did you cook for us?”
He just smiles, neither of us saying a word as we walk down the stairs with intertwined fingers. “When we reach the foyer you have to close your eyes, okay?”
“What if I fall?”
My lion kisses me on the forehead before answering. “Don’t worry, I’m going to be there to catch you. You never have to worry about hitting the floor.”
The irony of the situation doesn’t escape me.
But when I get to the terrace, my worries reach an epic size when seeing what is there.
Valerie’s words come back to my mind. This Lionel is lethal.
And he really is making me fall, and nothing can stop him.