Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Ethan
“Get out of my kitchen and never come back!” an older male voice bellowed as Ethan rounded the corner and saw Tressa scurrying away from a white-tiled room filled with stainless steel furnishings.
“Oof,” he grunted when she barreled straight into him, knocking them both to the floor. Her flour-covered form landed on top of him with a thud, but he couldn’t summon any annoyance at being plowed into. Not when he saw her face covered in chunks of lemon.
“You okay?” he asked, reaching up to pluck a bit of fruit from her hair.
“More or less,” she said sheepishly, tossing a look over her shoulder at the irritated man who just glared at her before slamming the double doors shut.
“Pastry mishap?” he asked, barely suppressing his grin.
“Yeah, I was trying to learn how to make lemon tarts. Turns out I’m not meant for the kitchen.”
She dropped her head to his chest, and the movement molded their bodies together even deeper. She hadn’t made an attempt to get up yet, but for some reason, he was okay with that despite the squishy wet chunks dampening his shirt.
Ethan glanced at the trail of flour leading from the closed doors to Tressa. “I’d say that’s a safe assumption. Though I don’t think that’s a bad thing. A badass vampire hunter like you shouldn’t be hidden away in a stuffy kitchen baking for other people.”
“I just thought it might be nice to make a treat for you,” she mumbled into his chest. “To help with settling in here.”
He cupped her face with his hands and lifted her head so he could see her properly. “While I appreciate the gesture,” he said, brushing a smudge of flour off her cheek with his thumb, “you don’t need to bake for me, Tressa. Ever. Though you do have good taste. Lemon tarts are one of my favorites.”
Her face lit up. “Oh, well, I’ll have someone who is much more qualified make you some. Any other favorites I should let the chef know about?”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty easy. As long as you don’t put pears or apricots in anything, I’m happy.”
She jerked backward, and the motion shifted her body along a part of him that was growing more awake the longer she remained on top of him.
“Pear?” she asked. “What do you have against pears?”
“I’m deathly allergic, and I’m pretty sure you guys don’t have a spare EpiPen laying around.”
She narrowed her eyes, almost as if the information carried more weight than something so simple should. “You’re allergic? To pears?”
Ethan shrugged. “And apricots. Could be worse, though. I could be allergic to something I love, like apples.”
He didn’t think his answer was anything surprising, but Tressa’s eyes grew comically wide. He would have to ask her what the big deal with fruit was.
She climbed off him, and it wasn’t until her weight disappeared that he realized how much he’d enjoyed having her in his arms. She held out a hand, and he took it, blinking at how easily she pulled him up.
Someone as strong as her would definitely be wasted in a kitchen.
In fact, he was more than a little disappointed she didn’t join him and the others for training.
He’d love to see what kind of fighting skills his little Sunflower was hiding.
Wait, since when did he use nicknames? And when the fuck did he start thinking of her as ‘his?’
Shaking his head, he brushed off the bits of powder and lemon that had transferred to his clothing.
“So, I take it you’re done training?” she asked, eyeing his pants and shirt that had been clean moments ago.
“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his still damp hair.
Three months without a trim had been annoying at first, but he was getting used to the longer strands and how they curled slightly at his shoulders.
“I wanted to go until dinner, but Saiden is a bigger hardass than you when it comes to not pushing myself. He gave me some stretches to do for ten minutes every other hour to keep things loose, but otherwise I’ve been banished from the gym for today. ”
Tressa laughed. “Well, since I’ve been banished from the kitchen, how about we go check out your new room? I had some of the staff make up a bed for you.”
“Sounds good,” he said, taking her offered hand. His skin tingled when her fingers laced through his.
More static electricity? It had been happening to him a lot the past couple days.
She guided him through a series of long halls, making a few familiar-looking turns. When she pushed open the door to the room beside hers, he arched an eyebrow. “You trying to keep an eye on me, Tress?”
He could have sworn he saw an embarrassed grin before she hurried inside. “It was just the easiest room to prepare. The rest are all pretty dusty and need a lot of cleaning.”
“In that case, I guess we’re neighbors.” He stepped through the door and paused for a second to take in the gothic room.
The four-poster bed with gossamer crimson curtains, rich mahogany furniture, and wine-colored velvet drapes made his beige spartan apartment seem downright depressing in comparison.
Well, former apartment, that is. This new space that looked like it belonged in a medieval castle was apparently his home for the time being.
Oddly enough, the unique decor wasn’t even the most bizarre aspect.
The strangest thing was how the bed was pushed up against the east wall.
It felt… out of place. Like the room had been designed for the bed to be smack in the center but the housekeeping crew had forgotten to move it back after cleaning the rug beneath.
He could even see four slight depressions in the thick weave.
“Can’t say I would have chosen the creature of the night vibe,” he said, turning to Tressa. “But I guess it makes sense. Get inside the mind of the vampires you’re hunting and all.”
“Uh, right,” she stammered. “That’s exactly it.
Anyway, I’ll let you get settled in. Our staff went into town and got you some clothing, so you can change if you like.
” She pointed to an assortment of bags tucked off to the side.
“Everything should fit, so you won’t have to borrow from Saiden anymore.
There are also some toiletries in the bathroom just through that door.
” She gestured to the back of the room. “If you’re missing anything, let me know and I can send someone to pick it up. ”
“Thanks,” he murmured. He pulled a plain blue T-shirt out of the bag closest to him and held it up to his chest. She was right, her staff got the correct size.
He set it on the bed along with a pair of gray sweats, then turned back to Tressa.
“I just realized I haven’t properly thanked you.
And I don’t mean for the clothes, I mean for all of this.
You could have left me in that hospital and taken care of the rogue on your own.
I know I’m a liability to your well-honed operation, so the fact that you’re letting me help is…
well, I appreciate it. More than you know. ”
He stepped closer and dislodged another piece of lemon, his fingers lingering in her silky black hair for a second longer than was necessary.
“You’re welcome,” she said softly, her attention focused on the chunk of fruit in his hand. “And I know what it’s like to want revenge but not be able to make it happen. How could I deny you yours?”
He frowned, wondering just what revenge Tressa had been denied.
She plucked the lemon from his hand and backed out of his room. “I should go get cleaned up. Dinner’s in a couple hours, so I’ll come knock on your door then.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t prevent her from leaving. “Sounds good. And thank you again, Tress. I mean it.”
She gave him a small half-smile, then pulled the door shut.
And maybe he was imagining things, but he could have sworn he heard her mutter, “Don’t thank me yet.”