Chapter 41 A Recipe for Love （and Disaster）
The scent of citrus and pine lingered in the air as Emilia wiped down the dining room table for the third time, though it was already spotless. Henry would be home soon, and for reasons she couldn't quite explain, she wanted everything to feel perfect when he walked through that door. Maybe it was just habit, or maybe it was the sinking feeling that no matter how much she scrubbed, she couldn't clean away the weight pressing on her chest.
She had spent the better part of the afternoon searching-desperately, hopelessly-for the perfect wedding venue. It shouldn't have been this hard. Months ago, she had one secured, a beautiful venue with high vaulted ceilings and romantic chandeliers. But that had been back when she was engaged to Chase. When she called off the wedding, she got her deposit back, as if it were some cruel refund on a life she no longer wanted. And now, nothing she looked at felt right.
Emilia sighed and leaned against the table, rubbing her forehead. She wanted something meaningful, something that spoke to the love she and Henry had fought so hard for. The city didn't have anything grand or historic like a castle-if it did, she would've booked it in a heartbeat. A place where love felt like it belonged in the very walls, where every stone whispered of forever. But there was no such place here, only sleek modern venues and rustic barns that didn't match the vision in her heart.
Her gaze drifted around the newly renovated home-the home she and Henry had poured their hearts into. It was beautiful now, full of warmth and promise, every inch a testament to their journey. And suddenly, a thought struck her. What if they had it here? What if their home became the place where they sealed their future together?
Emilia frowned almost immediately, shaking her head at the idea. She could already picture the chaos-family and friends running rampant through her personal space, drinks spilling, people laughing too loudly in rooms meant for quiet moments. This was their sanctuary. Did she really want to risk tainting it with the inevitable mess of a wedding?
She sighed again, resting her chin in her palm. Maybe she was thinking about this all wrong. Maybe the venue didn't matter as much as she thought it did. But still... she wanted it to be perfect. For Henry. For them.
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Henry slid into the driver's seat, his fingers drumming absently against the steering wheel as he reached for his phone. His heart pounded, a mix of nerves and anticipation tightening in his chest as he scrolled to a contact and hit dial.
The line rang once before a voice on the other end answered.
"Is it possible to be ready this weekend?" Henry's voice was low, steady, but there was an edge of urgency beneath it.
A pause. Then a response.
"Hmmm, alright," he murmured, his gaze flickering to the road ahead. "I'll give you double the advance if you can make it at least presentable for the weekend. I don't need it done, but just... you know."
Another pause, then a quiet chuckle from Henry. "Good. Keep me updated."
He ended the call and exhaled slowly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. If this worked out the way he hoped, Emilia wouldn't have to worry about finding the perfect place.
He'd already found it for her.
Henry pushed open the front door, immediately spotting Emilia curled up on the couch, her eyes glued to the screen as laughter from F.R.I.E.N.D.S echoed through the room. A mischievous grin spread across his lips as he stumbled forward dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh before collapsing onto the couch beside her, his head landing in her lap.
Emilia raised an eyebrow but didn't pause the show. "Really? Are we doing this?"
Henry groaned, snuggling further into her lap. "Tough day. Need comfort."
She rolled her eyes but smirked, her fingers instinctively moving to run through his soft, tousled hair. "Poor baby," she teased, twirling a strand between her fingers. "Want me to fetch you some warm milk too?"
He hummed, a lazy smile forming on his lips. "Only if you hand-feed me cookies, too."
Emilia laughed, her chest shaking lightly beneath him. "Oh, so we're high maintenance now?"
Henry peeked up at her, mischief dancing in his gaze. "I learned from the best."
She swatted at his shoulder, but before she could pull her hand away, he caught it, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver down her spine. Without thinking, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
Henry wasted no time. His hand slipped behind her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling her down until her body hovered over him. His lips moved with purpose, slow yet intoxicating, stealing every ounce of air between them.
Emilia let out a soft sigh against his mouth, her fingers gripping his shirt. The world outside ceased to exist-there was only Henry, the warmth of his body, the way he knew exactly how to kiss her like she was something to be cherished.
And then, abruptly, he pulled away, breathless but grinning. "If I don't stop now, I'm never getting up."
Emilia pouted. "That's a problem?"
Henry groaned, forcing himself to sit up. "Shower. Then cooking."
She smirked. "So responsible."
He winked as he stood, stretching lazily. "Gotta take care of my high-maintenance wife."
Emilia gasped, grabbing a throw pillow and launching it at him. Henry caught it effortlessly, grinning as he tucked it under his arm and sauntered toward the stairs. "I'll be sure to fluff this properly while I'm up there."
Emilia shook her head, biting back a smile as she watched him disappear. No matter how frustrating the wedding planning was, moments like these reminded her-this was what mattered.
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Upstairs, the sound of running water was soon accompanied by Henry belting out, "It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do"
Emilia covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as she listened to his voice crack on the high notes. The mental image of Henry dramatically clutching a shampoo bottle as a microphone had her giggling.
After a few minutes, Henry emerged from the shower, still humming. Dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, he made his way to the kitchen, his voice shifting seamlessly into a new tune.
"Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you," he sang, grabbing spices from the cabinet.
As he prepped the lamb, he twirled a wooden spoon like a microphone, throwing in ridiculous dance moves between chopping onions and seasoning the meat. He wiggled his eyebrows at an imaginary audience and even spun around dramatically as he added a splash of olive oil to the pan.
Emilia peeked around the corner, unable to contain her grin as she recorded the scene on her phone. She held back her laughter until Henry, mid-spin, finally spotted her.
His eyes widened before he slid across the floor to her, taking her hand and twirling her into his arms. "Caught me in the act, huh?" he smirked, swaying her playfully.
Emilia laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Oh, don't stop on my account."
Henry grinned, dipping her dramatically before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Only if you promise to be my dance partner for life."
Emilia pretended to think about it, tapping her chin. "Hmm, I don't know... Are there more performances like this in my future?"
Henry gasped in mock offense. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."
With that, he spun her around the kitchen, keeping the rhythm of the song as he sang, "Is it the look in your eyes, or is it this dancing juice?" He dipped her again, making her squeal before twirling her back into his arms.
Still holding her close, he somehow managed to stir the sauce on the stove, throwing in a dash of seasoning with a theatrical flourish. "Multitasking at its finest," he bragged, grinning.
Emilia couldn't stop laughing as Henry seamlessly alternated between serenading her and flipping the lamb in the pan, all while delivering the occasional goofy hip shake.
When he got to the line, "Who cares, baby? I think I wanna marry you," he dropped to one knee, using a wooden spoon as a stand-in engagement ring.
Emilia played along, fanning herself dramatically. "Oh, Henry, I don't know what to say! This is all so sudden!"
"Say yes, woman! I've got lamb on the stove, and we have approximately twenty minutes before it's done," he shot back with a wink.
She laughed, tugging him up and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."
Henry grinned against her lips, pulling her into another twirl before scooping her up and spinning her around the kitchen. "And that, my love, is how you season a meal and keep your fiancée entertained."
Emilia sighed, resting her head against his shoulder as the scent of sizzling garlic and rosemary filled the air. "I think I could watch you do this forever."
"Good," Henry murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Because forever is exactly what I was hoping for."
Henry's hands found her waist as he effortlessly lifted Emilia onto the kitchen table, his voice still carrying the tune. He grinned down at her, wiggling his brows as he playfully crooned, "So what do you say? You wanna marry me?"
Emilia bit her lip, shaking her head at his cheesiness, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her. "You are so ridiculous," she murmured, laughter dancing in her eyes.
"Ridiculously in love with you," Henry corrected smoothly.
Before she could roll her eyes, he leaned in, and she met him halfway, pressing her lips to his. The moment their lips met, the world seemed to shrink down to just them. His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she tangled her fingers in his damp curls. The kiss was slow, deep, and electrifying, making her toes curl as his lips moved expertly against hers.
Henry kissed her like she was the most precious thing in the world-like he had all the time in the universe to memorize the taste of her, the feel of her. His tongue teased against her lower lip, coaxing a soft sigh from her before he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. The heat between them was intoxicating, making Emilia dizzy in the best way possible.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and completely lost in each other, Emilia smirked and whispered, "Only if this lamb is magnificent."
Henry's eyes narrowed playfully. "Oh, that's how it is, huh?"
Before she could react, his fingers were at her sides, tickling her mercilessly. Emilia shrieked, squirming and giggling as she tried to push him away. "Henry! S-stop-"
"You doubt my culinary skills, and you think you're getting away with it?" he teased, his fingers relentless.
In her frantic attempt to escape, her hand flailed and knocked over a bowl of flour, sending a white cloud into the air and dusting both of them. They froze, staring at each other, completely covered.
Henry blinked. Emilia pressed her lips together, trying so hard not to laugh.
Then he grinned wickedly.
"Oh, it's on," he declared before grabbing a handful of mashed potatoes from the counter and smearing it onto her cheek.
Emilia gasped, eyes wide. "Henry Kingsley, you did not just-"
But before she could finish, he was already laughing, and she grabbed a spoonful of sauce, dabbing it onto his nose.
"Oh, you wanna play dirty?" he challenged, grabbing a cherry tomato and tossing it at her. It bounced off her forehead, and Emilia let out a dramatic gasp before launching a handful of flour at him, coating his face like a ghost.
Laughter filled the kitchen as they tossed food at each other, giggling uncontrollably. Henry grabbed a dollop of whipped cream from the fridge and smeared it along her jawline before kissing it off, making her shiver despite the chaos.
"Mm," he hummed against her skin. "Sweet and delicious. Just like you."
Emilia, blushing and breathless, took the opportunity to stuff a piece of parsley into his mouth, making him cough. She burst out laughing, barely dodging a handful of butter he flicked in revenge.
By the time the madness settled, the kitchen was a complete disaster-flour on the counters, sauce dripping from the cabinets, and both of them covered in bits of food. Emilia sat on the table, laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, while Henry, still holding a whipped-cream-covered spoon, grinned down at her.
"Truce?" he asked, panting slightly.
Emilia nodded, catching her breath. "Truce."
Then, without warning, Henry swooped in, licking a stray bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth before stealing another kiss.
"Mmm," he murmured against her lips. "Totally worth it."
Emilia wrapped her arms around his neck, still giggling. "You better pray that lamb is worth the mess."
Henry smirked, brushing his flour-covered nose against hers. "Oh, sweetheart, it'll be the best damn lamb you've ever had."
And with that, they collapsed into each other's arms, laughing amidst the chaos, completely and utterly in love.