5 #2
“I won’t, but I appreciate your offer all the same, Ian.
” I smile again and turn to the sink, mostly to start but also to send a message that I need him to leave me alone.
I keep my back to him for a few moments before he takes the hint and exits.
I listen carefully to the sound of his footsteps as he moves through the house and I’m not surprised to hear him disappear down the stairs into the basement.
That book collection of his is enormous, bigger than most libraries I’ve seen, and he said he bought the house in part because of the books.
I’ve no idea why someone would buy more books than anyone could read in three lifetimes but I’m not a reader so what do I know?
I’m just happy he’s not going to sit around watching me work.
Not yet, at least.
I pull on my rubber gloves and run the hot water to fill a bucket so I can tackle the stove and the range hood, both of which are ancient but well-made and still in great shape. I start scrubbing and go over what happened in my bedroom with Ian. I always think best when I’m working.
As I’m scrubbing the range hood, I think about Ian’s reaction to my testing him.
I had a feeling from the way Lorna described him that he’s a button-down guy who is looking for an excuse to bust loose from his inhibitions.
I’m usually more interested in women than men but he’s intriguing precisely because he’s so uptight.
I’ve had my share of cocks in my day and I still find them deliciously decadent if they’re attached to the right individual.
Ian checks most of the boxes on my internal checklist, which makes him and this new situation quite intriguing.
But Lorna is my real focus. I’ve been interested in that raven-haired minx since the day we met years ago at the diner, but I always got the impression she was strictly a red wine drinker, never white or even rosé.
The meeting in the diner with Ian was the first time she ever even hinted that she might be willing to indulge and that alone makes this experiment in our living arrangements irresistible.
Throw in the money and the escape they offered me from Beth and my other now former roommates and I’m in hog heaven.
I just have to be careful not to spook either of my new roommates before I captivate them with my womanly charms and uninhibited sexuality. Ha!
Once I’m satisfied with the state of the range hood, I turn my attention to the stove and oven, which has been cleaned now and then but not well and not recently.
That’s a bigger job than the hood and a glance at the clock on the wall tells me I should make something for Ian for lunch.
I could eat, too. I go to the fridge, expecting to find a bottle of seltzer and some leftover Asian food but I’m pleasantly surprised.
The SubZero is fully stocked with a wide assortment of fresh vegetables, cheeses that were carefully selected, and even cold cuts that were sliced yesterday according to the labels.
Ian and Lorna must have gone shopping as soon as they offered me the job.
This just keeps getting better and better.
I grab most of the vegetables and start slicing and dicing.
Then I make a sandwich with what looks like a delicious ciabatta roll before I stop and wonder if I should make one for myself.
I’m hungry but not starving and there’s something about serving Ian and not eating with him that makes me tingle where it counts.
I have no idea why or where this feeling is coming from but I go with it and make just one sandwich.
When I’ve got a plate arranged with the sandwich and cut veggies, I go to the door to the basement and call down to him that lunch is on the table.
He calls back up and soon I hear his footsteps on the wooden stairs, then in the hallway that leads to the kitchen.
I’ve got his lunch laid out on the island and I stand waiting for him to ask what he wants to drink.
I rein in an urge to smile as he comes around the corner, again I have no idea why, but I give him a serious look when he takes in the scene.
He looks impressed, pleased, and a little taken aback.
“What’s all this?” he asks with a smile blooming across his handsome face. He really is good-looking, I note once again. “Aren’t you going to join me, Teri?”
“I’ll eat in a bit but you go ahead and dig in, Ian,” I tell him with a small smile of my own. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Water is fine,” he says as he sits on the stool in front of his plate. I shake my head and give him a look.
“I can do better than plain water, Ian,” I gently chastise him. He looks at me with mild confusion. “Do you like fresh lemonade?” I noticed a bunch of lemons in a bowl near the pantry, way more than I would need for cooking.
“That sounds like a lot of trouble, Teri,” he says as he picks up a slice of yellow pepper and munches it. “This looks great, by the way.”
I nod. “Thanks, but lemonade is no trouble at all.” I grab the bowl of lemons, an old-fashioned juicer made of glass, a cutting board, and a knife. With a few quick strokes, I’ve got a fresh-squeezed glass of lemonade that I hand to him. He takes a sip and his eyes dance with appreciation.
“Best I’ve ever tasted, no lie,” he says after he puts the glass down. “But I’m feeling a little weird eating while you’re working, Teri. Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, which isn’t true – I’m hungry – but for some unknown reason, I get a little thrill out of serving him. This isn’t like me. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced before even though I’ve been a server for years. This feels different.
I like this feeling.
“My god, Teri,” he says as he bites into his sandwich. “This is really good. What did you to make it so…” He struggles to talk with his mouth full, which is slightly adorable.
“I’ll never tell.” I give him a quick, flirty smile before I go back to cleaning the stove. I wonder if I should ask him what he’s doing downstairs but he almost reads my mind.
“I’m not sure how many books I have now but it’s overwhelming. I’m thinking about getting some help just to catalog what I’ve got.”
“With an eye toward selling them at some point?”
“Oh, no. I can’t see any circumstances where I would sell a single volume. If something turns out to be a hidden gem, I might lend it out or whatever you do with old first editions and such, but I do not need to sell.”
We discuss what little we know about the rare book market for the rest of the time Ian takes to finish his lunch.
When he slides the plate toward the middle of the island, I remove my grimy glove and put it in the sink.
This is so different from the diner, where I’ve cleared dishes for diners for ages but as part of my job as a waitress.
This feels much more domestic to me, something I didn’t realize I would enjoy, but I do. I enjoy it a lot.
Ian stands up to leave the kitchen when we hear the front door open.
“Hey,” Lorna calls out from the front of the house. “You two decent?” She laughs at her joke as her footsteps come toward the kitchen. When she rounds the corner, I’m surprised by her appearance.
She’s dressed to kill, in a short, tight skirt, a sexy top, and heels. Stilettos, in fact. What the fuck?
“Hey, you two,” she says as she goes straight at Ian. “I’m not interrupting lunch or anything, am I?” She melts into his arms and kisses him, not with a ton of passion but with enough to make the point, if that was her goal.
He’s mine.
“I was just finishing up,” Ian says with a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
“Are you hungry, Lorna?” I ask quickly, partially to bail him out but also to cover the sudden color that I feel rising in my face. Why am I embarrassed? I wonder. I turn away from them and busy myself scrubbing the stove again.
“I am hungry, but not for lunch,” she says with a surprisingly lascivious tone. “Come with me.” She drags Ian away from the island and I can’t stop myself from looking up and I see them just as they disappear around the corner. Seconds later, I hear their footsteps on the stairs.
Wow.