Chapter 16 #2
Before I can open my mouth to ask what he plans to do, the instructor claps his hands to gather the room, and the class officially begins.
As fate—or Dominic’s careful maneuvering—would have it, our station is set up directly beside Judge Sterling and Eleanor.
"Good morning," Judge Sterling offers with a warm, measured smile, tying his apron around his waist. "Arthur Sterling. And this is my wife, Eleanor."
"I’m Dom. This is my wife, Rose," Dominic introduces smoothly, shaking the judge's hand with practiced, effortless charm.
The name change is a smart move. I wouldn’t have thought of that.
We slip into casual, light conversation as the instructor directs us to begin prepping our vegetables. Within thirty seconds, Dominic's culinary talents—or complete lack thereof—become glaringly obvious.
He wields a chef’s knife with a speed that borders on terrifying, dicing an onion into razor-thin, perfectly uniform pieces in seconds.
But when it actually comes to handling the food, he’s utterly useless.
He casually dumps a mountain of crushed garlic into a delicate butter sauce, totally ignoring the recipe card.
"Oh, no!" I gasp, darting forward to snatch the bowl out of his hand. "That's for four servings, not a military regiment! Are you trying to poison us?"
"Sorry. I didn’t know that," he says completely straight-faced, reaching back for the spoon.
"It says that in the recipe! Maybe read it!" I shoot back, swatting his hand away and carefully spooning the excess garlic out of the pan. "Step away from the flame and go peel the carrots. Safely."
I’m not a great cook, by any means, but I’m light years ahead of my husband.
Dominic scoffs, narrowing his dark eyes at me, but he actually takes a step back, muttering under his breath as he picks up the peeler with absolute, begrudging obedience.
From the next station over, a booming laugh erupts. Judge Sterling and Eleanor are watching us, both of them practically crying with amusement.
"I have to say, Dom, you look like you could take down a battalion, but your wife runs that kitchen with an iron fist," Judge Sterling chuckles, shaking his head.
"She runs more than just the kitchen, Arthur," Dominic grunts, though a faint, dark glint of amusement dances in his eyes as he shoots me a sideways glance.
"Oh, hush, Arthur," Eleanor smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling as she looks between Dominic and me. "They are absolute darlings. Look at them... they remind me so much of us when we were young and madly in love."
The word in love hangs in the air, sweet and heavy.
I freeze for a fraction of a second, a sudden heat rushing to my cheeks.
I glance at Dominic, expecting him to stiffen up, but he doesn't. Instead, he steps up right behind me, his broad frame sliding flush against my back as he reaches around my waist to grab a handful of fresh herbs from the counter.
His hot breath tickles the shell of my ear, his touch sending an electric current straight through my skin, blurring the lines between our staged performance and the undeniable, volatile fire burning between us.
During a short break in the middle of the lesson, Judge Sterling politely excuses himself from the station, wiping his hands on his apron before heading toward the restrooms.
Dominic instantly leans down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I'll be right back," he whispers.
Before I can even ask where he's going, he hurries out of the studio, moving with calculated grace.
Left behind at our counter, I quickly pivot, keeping Eleanor seamlessly entertained with casual talk about cooking techniques, seasonal ingredients, and lighthearted stories about Yapper's chaotic antics at home.
Eleanor beams, completely charmed, completely unaware of the chess match being played in the background. Apparently, she has five cats and two dogs, and we spend the rest of the break talking about them.
A few minutes later, Judge Sterling returns to his cutting board, and right on his heels, Dominic strolls back into the room, looking relaxed, unbothered, and entirely innocent.
He catches my eye for a fraction of a second, offering a subtle, unreadable glint in his dark eyes before stepping back beside me.
The instructor calls everyone back to their stations for the final plating challenge.
We put together our dishes, and after a dramatic taste-test round, the instructor officially pronounces Judge Sterling and Eleanor the winners of the class.
Eleanor claps delightedly, while Arthur beams with modest pride.
As the class winds down and everyone begins untying their aprons to leave, Judge Sterling turns toward us, slinging his jacket over his arm.
"You know," Arthur says, studying us with a warm, thoughtful expression, "I've never seen you two in this studio before. Will we be seeing you back here next week?"
Dominic wraps a firm, heavy arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. "We’ll certainly try, Arthur," he replies smoothly, offering a confident, polite nod. "It was an absolute pleasure meeting you both."
"Likewise! Take care, you two," Eleanor calls out with a bright wave.
We wave the older couple goodbye as they head out toward the parking lot, the staged pleasantries fading into the quiet afternoon air the moment the studio doors swing shut behind us.