Riding the Red Ch. 07

He moved to the side to allow her to pass. "Of course," he murmured softly, his eyes glowing hot. She walked past him, her body lightly brushing his as she moved. A jolt of electricity ran through her, as their bodies touched, and she had to fight herself to keep from turning around, pulling his head down to hers and sinking her teeth into his soft coral mouth. "What," she thought, "Was that?!" Keeping her head high, and her tread measured, she walked to her room, privately thankful that he didn't know how liquid heat was glowing between her legs.

Of course, he did. And he smiled.

Once in her room, she quickly changed into her workout gear, grabbed her book, and headed for the exercise room. To her relief, Lucas was nowhere in sight. She didn't know why he was in such a mood, but she did know that she was in no mood for his taut, rangy muscles, or distracting scent, or dewy body...

Adrienne shook herself, grinning. The oglee has become the oogler, she chuckled to herself. Taking her station on the elliptical, she began her workout. After an hour, she looked up to find that Lucas filled the doorway, leaning against the post. She contemplated ignoring him, but disregarded that idea as being too rude. Opting for a friendly tone, she breathlessly chirruped, "Hey, Lucas!"

He smiled, though it seemed a little unsure, "Hey, back," he greeted.

"What's up?"

"Nothing. Just coming to check on you."

"I'm fine, thank you," she said, her tone perfectly polite.

His eyes never left her face, but she sensed that he approved of what he saw. "I can see that," he smiled. "Would you mind some company? Quiet house, lonely me."

Yes, she would very much mind some company, at least his company. But instead of being so ill mannered as to admit that, she merely inclined her head and smiled.

He sauntered up to the elliptical, hands in his pockets. Adrienne looked at him quizzically for a moment as he just stood there, seemingly ill at ease. "I must apologize," he began awkwardly, "For my inexcusable behavior this morning. I was...not myself."

She cocked her head, one side of her mouth turning up in a grin. "If your behavior was inexcusable, then however am I to excuse you? You've nullified your own apology."

He threw his head back and barked a short laugh, and then looked at her, eyes twinkling. "Was that delightful bit of impertinence meant to say that you forgive me?"

She sighed and stopped running. Leaning over the console of the machine, she said, "It's close, here. We're both...as you said yesterday, on edge. There is, I think, nothing to forgive."

"You're too kind," he said faintly.

"You don't know me very well," she rejoined pertly.

Lucas just smiled, but instead of his usual suggestive grin, he just looked wistful.

She couldn't bear to see that expression on his face, so she said, "Hungry?"

He looked away and shook his head.

"Yes you are," she coaxed.

A slight grin touched his mouth. "Yes, I am," he admitted. His stomach took that moment to make its displeasure with that state of affairs known. Loudly.

Adrienne laughed. "Can it wait for me to have a shower?"

"Sure," he said, but was drowned out by his stomach belying his false affirmation.

She leapt off of the machine and grinned up at him. "You don't want me making your lunch while I'm gross, do you?"

Lucas laughed. "I'm a guy. To me, you smell good enough to to be lunch."

Adrienne tossed a look over her shoulder as she walked by him, though she was careful not to touch him this time. "Well, then. Let me hurry and make something for you to eat before your cannibalistic urges overcome you."

He followed her into the kitchen, and sat down excitedly as she began preparations for lunch.

"Here, peel this," she said, tossing him a butternut squash and a vegetable peeler. After watching him long enough to satisfy herself that he knew what he was doing, she turned to make the dough. She reached into the top cabinet to pull down a baking pan, and since her back was turned, she didn't notice Lucas' eyes resting possessively on the strip of skin between her shirt and her pants.

He turned his head, and he could just see the curve of her breast stretching tenderly and temptingly under the thin material of her tank top. He thought about how soft it would feel under his palm, and stirred uncomfortably. Then she bent over to remove a bowl from the oven and put it on the counter before she preheated the oven. By the time he shook himself out of the daydream caused by that particular position, she had already procured all of the ingredients, and was busy measuring the ingredients for the galette dough.

Icy flour, salt, and coconut oil into one frozen bowl, lemon juice, ice water, and nonfat sour cream into the other. She cut the oil into the flour, quickly worked the wet ingredients into the dry, and then put the bowl back in the freezer.

"All peeled," he announced.

She smiled and took the slippery squash from his hands. Laying it on a cutting board, she deftly cut it in half, and then scooped out the seeds. "Here," she said, handing him a seed-filled bowl. "Wash off the orange strings, spray some cooking oil on them, lay them on a baking sheet, sprinkle them with salt, pop them in the oven, and we'll have a nice snack to tide us until lunch.

He nodded, trying to keep her directions straight, while being simultaneously distracted by the clean, fresh scent of her sweat. Whole-heartedly glad that he was no callow youth, to show his interest in the embarrassingly obvious physical way, he turned to do her bidding.

By the time he had finished that, she had chopped the squash, and put it in his bowl, with more salt and olive oil. After spreading the pieces on another baking sheet, and putting them in the oven, she leaned against the counter and bit her lip, thinking.

Lucas tried not to focus on her sharp little white teeth worrying her full, pink lower lip, or imagine how those teeth would feel sinking into him. He clenched his jaw, swallowed hard, and then lightly asked, "What now?"

"Mmm, can you slice an onion for me?"

"I can do that," he assured her. He started on that while she melted some coconut oil in a small cast-iron skillet.

When he was done, she put the onion into the pan, and caramelized them with a pinch of cayenne. Lucas just sat and watched her, enjoying both the scents of food, and the scent of her filling his kitchen. For her part, Adrienne seemed to be lost in her own world. He wondered what she was thinking. His eyes strayed to her nipples pouting against the material of her shirt. He hoped that she was thinking about him.

When the onions were done, she pulled the food from the oven, setting the seeds in front of him to munch, and mixing the squash with the onion. "Could you grate some fontina into the bowl for me?" she asked.

"I was built for comfort, not for work," he grumbled good naturedly as he searched for the grater.

She smiled beatifically at him. "You have my everlasting gratitude for your continuing self-sacrifice," she dimpled.

He laughed, once more charmed by her pert tongue. While he grated, she chiffonaded the sage, and put that into the bowl.

Lucas' hand surreptitiously slipped into the bowl, aiming for a savoury morsel, but Adrienne was too quick for him.

She slapped his hand, and shook her finger at him. "Not yet, you little thief. Go finish the seeds if you must."

He slunk back to the table, pretending to be hurt, but couldn't keep up the premise while stuffing his face full of the warm, roasted seeds. He watched as she removed the dough from the freezer, rolled it, and filled it with the squash mixture, and then folded the edges over the cheery orange filling.

After popping it into the oven, she turned to him and said, "Would you like a wilted kale salad to go along with this?"

"I think that you should know by now that you cook, I eat. Scientists have yet to discover a food that I don't like," he answered.

She smiled at him, and then turned to pull a bag of frozen, blanched kale, and another of chopped green onion, from the freezer. She popped the kale into the microwave to defrost.

Without prompting, Lucas washed the dishes, and gave her the clean bowl.

Adrienne smiled in approval. "Every girl should have one of you around the house," she teased.

"The Lucas 3000! He cleans, he peels, he slices, he dices! Order yours today!" he responded playfully.

"Well, if you do all that, could you mince a few cloves of garlic for me?" she queried.

"I said slice and dice. Mincing is not part of the package. For you, however," here he made a silly little bow, "I'll make an exception."

"Excellent," she deadpanned. "I'd hate to have to return you to the manufacturer."

Lucas neatly parried that riposte by sticking out his tongue.

While he was working on the garlic, she drained the kale and put it in the still-oily pan, that had held the onions, to gently warm. At the bottom of the bowl, she whisked together olive oil, lemon juice, and sour cream. When Lucas had finished with the garlic, she whisked that into the bowl, and asked him to pull a tin of anchovies from the cabinet, and mince a few fillets for the dressing. By the time he had done that, and everything was whisked together, the kale was warmed through. She drained it, and added it to the bowl, along with dried cranberries, and toasted pine nuts. Topping it with the green onion, she set it aside to wait for the galette.

Part of her knew that they should talk about the rising tension but, for now, she was content to have back their easy camaraderie. She turned to him to find him looking disconsolate. "What's the matter?" she asked.

He looked at her mournfully. "Nothing for dessert?"

"Well, you can have the cake if you want."

He looked discomfited. After watching him fidget for a bit, she said, "You didn't."

His eyes looked shifty. "Didn't what?"

"You couldn't have."

"Couldn't what?" His eyes were luminous with feigned innocence.

"Who—how--did you eat the rest of the cake?!"

"I WAS HUNGRY IN THE NIGHT!" he mock-yelled. Adrienne just stared at him. "You grinchly little bugger!"

"Besides," he rejoined, "I didn't eat all of the cake. There's still a slice left."

"Show me."

Lucas walked over to the carved wooden cake stand. He lifted the lid.

Adrienne stared at the pitifully thin sliver of cake, wobbling gently under its own weight. She looked up at him, then back at the ghost of cake past.

He tried to grin charmingly. He failed.

"What are you, 10?" she asked in mock severity.

"I was hungry," he playfully whined.

"So, then why didn't you eat the leftovers from one of the other meals instead of nearly an entire cake?"

"Be...cause..." he hung his head in shame. "Because I'm 10," he sighed.

"Awww," Adrienne couldn't bear to see him sad, even if she knew that they were playing. "It's alright, Skywalker. I'll make some cookies."

"Skywalker?" he asked, nonplussed.

"Luke Skywalker? Famous Jedi Knight? Star Wars?" He looked at her blankly. "You've seriously never heard of Star Wars?"

"I don't...watch much TV," he said, discomfited.

"It's a movie."

"Don't really see many of those, either."

"Well...if it makes you feel better, I haven't seen the movies since I was a little girl. I barely remember anything from them. Honestly, I found them to be rather boring." He continued to look at her with that polite expression reserved for people who keep talking when the listener has nothing to contribute. "Right," she said. "Pop-culture references—I'll try to refrain."

"So...what kind of cookies?" he asked hopefully.

"Have you been thinking about cookies this entire time?" she inquired, pretending to be offended.

A short pause. "Yes."

"Cookie monster," she admonished.

"I like cookies," he said brightly.

"No, I—eh...never mind. How about oatmeal nut raisin?"

"My favourite," he smiled.

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "Most people prefer chocolate chip."

He shrugged. "I like what I like."

She smiled shyly. "They're my favourite, too."

"Well then, you have to make them," he said, steering her back toward the cabinets.

"Slave-driver," she deadpanned.

"Whh-tsh!"

She spread some oats and pecans on a baking sheet, and put them in the oven. While they were toasting, into a bowl, she creamed together the sugar, molasses, and coconut oil, added eggs, then the flour, baking soda, salt and spices. Finally, she took the toasted nuts and oats from the oven, added them to the bowl along with raisins, and combined it all into dough. "Could you help me roll them?" she asked over her shoulder.

"I thought that I was a slave driver," he said, as he went to the sink to wash his hands.

"Yes, well. Don't get uppity with me, y'hear?" she grinned.

He washed his hands and then dove into the dough with her. When all of the dough had been rolled into balls, she nodded at him to put the tray in the freezer. "You want me to put the cookies in the freezer?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep," she said. It keeps them from spreading too much if they're cold when they go into the oven. Besides, I want to wash the sticky from my hands."

"I could--" he started.

"Let me guess, lick me clean?" She gave him a wry grin as she walked backwards toward the sink. "You'll have to be cleverer than that. I'm starting to think ahead of you."

He laughed as he put the tray in the freezer, and then joined her at the sink.

She leaned back against it as she watched him wash his hands. "What were you like as a boy?"

Lucas looked up, surprised. He leaned beside her. "I was...the runt of the litter, actually. I have three sisters, so you can imagine what that was like growing up. They always felt that they had to protect me. I was never sickly, but I was small, and there was always some young bully trying to assert dominance by endeavouring to beat the snot out of me."

Now it was Adrienne's turn to look surprised. While it was true that Lucas was not an overly muscular man, or exceedingly tall, he was distinctly solid, and she had first-hand knowledge of the fact that capable, rangy muscles made up his current frame.

He saw her looking askance at him, and inclined his head. "Puberty," he said laconically. "It came as a surprise to everyone. Meanwhile, I had spent the majority of my life until then with my head in a book. I used to fantasize about running away and having adventures in far off places. I think that that's why I picked up so many languages. So, even though I grew into this body, my bookish personality had already been formed." He smiled ruefully. "Most of the men in my family don't think much beyond, 'Want. Take. Have.' I am, therefore, something of an anomaly. They love me. But they don't...I don't know. They don't see me." He was silent for several moments, but then shook himself out of his thoughtful trance. "What about you, hm?" He bumped her with his hip. "What was Adrienne Blanchard like as a child?"

She moved to take the cookies from the freezer and put them in the oven as she thought about her answer. "My parents love me very much," she started. "They love each other, as well, which is rare today, I suppose. We're very close with Papa's side of the family, but...I really don't know anything much about Mom's. I just know that she and Grandfather don't get on for some reason. I was...indulged as a child. I always loved books and having parents from two different countries, and a mother who is an international lawyer guaranteed that I had seen a lot of the world by a very young age. I was...always curious about everything. I was forever sneaking off to go exploring forests, or abandoned houses, or looking in drawers for...who knows what. I'm an only child, so I was very good at finding ways to entertain myself."

She smiled at him. "I'm still quite good at distracting myself from ennui. Why do you think that I cook so much? We could get on with cold cereal and turkey sandwiches, but with no TV, no phone, no Internet, and too much snow to explore outside...aside from reading, what else is there to do? I like to keep busy. When I was little, I used to put leaves and berries into the birdbath to pretend to make soup for all of the fairy-tale creatures of the forest." She looked up at him and shrugged. "I was odd."

He smiled down at her. It was the warmest, most genuine smile that she had seen from him since they met. "I wish...that I could have known you when I was a boy and you were a girl. I think that my oddness would have liked your oddness."

She smiled and looked away, curiously touched. Fortunately, she was saved by the timer on the stove, alerting them to the fact that both the galette and the cookies were done.

"I'll handle this," he volunteered. "You just sit down and let me take care of you."

"Lucas, by letting me stay here, you're already doing so much--"

"Indulge me."

She smiled hesitantly, suddenly shy. "All right." She moved to the table and sat. "Consider yourself indulged, then."

He cut the galette into wedges, and plated it, along with the still-warm salad. He set the plate in front of her, and then paused to push her hair behind her ear as she leaned forward to enjoy the enticing aroma.

She looked up at him and they watched each other for a moment, his finger still lightly brushing her ear in an inexplicably intimate gesture. After a moment, he dropped his hand and stepped back, breaking the connection. He turned to make his plate, and then sat with her.

They ate, chatting companionably about childhood pranks, mishaps, wishes, and fantasies. When the meal was over, and he had taken the plates to the sink, Adrienne smiled. "Cookie time!" she sang. Smiling, Lucas picked up several still-warm cookies from the tray and carried them to her, splitting the fragrant treats between the both of them.

Adrienne did a little dance of happiness as she sank her teeth into the warm, chewy, fragrant cookie.

Lucas smiled indulgently at her, bit into his cookie...and promptly wriggled in his seat in a comical approximation of her dance. "Mrph!" he asserted, unashamedly stuffing the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"You are ever the poet, sir," she teased. "And now that you've had your feed, I think that it's time for that shower."

He happily munched on another cookie as she stood. He looked so pleased with his treats that she couldn't help reaching out a hand to affectionately stroke his thick hair. He nuzzled his head into the palm of her hand, and she gently scratched his scalp. She smiled at the guileless gesture, and then patted his shoulder. Moving to the counter to grab two more cookies, she gave him a wink as she breezed by on her way to her room.

She was just biting into one when the world exploded.