Culinaria L'amore

Culinaria L'amore Chapter Twenty-Three

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"So what do you plan on naming him?" Garrett asked as we pulled into the driveway. He reached over and scratched the grey collie's lopsided ears, chuckling softy as he licked his palm.

I examined my new pet, smiling as he barked excitedly, his grey tail beating against my arm.

"I want to name him Simba." I muttered, planting a kiss on the dog's head as he wiggled around and licked the tip of my nose..

Garrett raised an eyebrow as he opened up his car door, running around to open mine.

"Simba?" He asked as he took the dog toys and leash from my left hand before helping me and Simba out of the car.

"It's a cute name." I replied, hoisting a bag of food in my arm and following him to the door.

"But Simba was a powerful lion king and that little buddy is..."

"Just as strong and powerful as the animal he's named after. Shut it."

Garrett shot me a bemused look before his smile faded a little, taking in my getup and Simba. Then, abruptly, he turned around and headed inside, the only sound coming from the beeping of the car locking.

Surprised by his quick change of emotions, I followed him, keeping the door open by putting my booted foot through the crack.

Neither Yivanni or Mr. Bianchi didn't seem to be home at the moment and I set down the dog food before kicking off my shoes and literally running after him, Simba barking in my arms.

"What's wrong?" I asked, setting down the puppy as I followed him into the kitchen where he started rolling up his sleeves, washed his hands, and started chopping green peppers. Watching him slice the vegetable in a couple seconds, I waited patiently for him to start talking.

"We need to talk, Kirsten." He muttered quietly, setting down his knife and wiped his hands on a dark towel. Coming over to where I stood, he sat down at a table and patted the cushioned seat next to me.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to sound calm and relaxed, but on the inside, I wanted to know what he was thinking, ad I was starting to get afraid of.

"I don't want to talk about it but after tonight..."

My fear was growing as his face become blank. What was he going to say, that he was having doubts? Felt like I was too young? A nuisance? The waitress at Mona Lisa was more attractive than I? What did he want?

"But, do you think you can still fill your stomach up with some spinach pasta after all those strawberries and bread? It's my new recipe for my upcoming recipe book."

I wanted to laughed at how I reacted to his serious face and lack of words. How could I think that he was about to say something that could ruin this day. Because to be truthful, this was the best day in a long time.

"Sure. Want help cooking?"

Garrett smiled at me, grasping my hand and pulling me to the counter. "Of course."

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After we enjoyed a dinner of spinach chicken pasta and a type of Indian green pepper salad, I tracked down Simba on the second floor landing, cowering against the corner as the wind blew strongly outside.

"Ah, you poor baby." I muttered, tweaking his odd shaped ear gently. He whined in my arms, licking my exposed skin and wriggling around as if wanting to get down.

"Hey Kirsten? Do you want me to pour him some dog food? I think he may be tired after that long day."

"Sure," I replied, letting him bound down the stairs and towards the kitchen where the sound of food falling into a metal tray ringing around the spacious room.

"We'll have to make sure he doesn't bother us while we work tonight for the competition."

"Alonzo and Angela are coming again?" I questioned, leaning against the door.

"Thank go no. But they'll be here tomorrow and Friday, the every day next week since they're going on some two year anniversary thing to Hawaii."

"They're married?"

Garrett rolled his eyes. "Hell no. They are not responsible enough for that."

"Alright. Let's get started then. Hopefully it'll get better tonight."

Tonight, we decided to make a french pastery and a Russian potato dish that made my arms hurting from all the shredding of cheese and potato.

"You alright?" Garrett asked, popping by my unit to check the boiling of the milk.

"Fine," I panted, trying the mix the big pan of batter while beating two eggs. "Sad as it is, I kind of wish those two were here. I don't have four arms."

"I'm sorry. Here, give me the bowl." He gestured, pushing me closer and grasping the spoon. "Go get some rest."

"I'm fine, really." I tried to grab the bowl away but he pulled me to face him, trapping me in his arms so that I couldn't escape nor in the reach of the batter.

"Garrett." I growled threatening, trying to fish it out of his hand.

"Yes, Kirsten?" He asked.

Before I could reply, his lips descended onto mine, his kiss soft and sweet. But sadly short.

"Didn't work." I said hotly. "Now give it."

"Oh really? Do I need to try again?"

This time he was more passionate, tangling his free hand in my hair, but had to release his grip of my back to do so. I sank into the kiss for about five seconds before I broke apart from him, lunging for the bowl.

Fortunate for us, we were in a pretty open space so when we fell, me on top of him, the batter only managed to splatter onto distant cabinets.

The red bowl cracked down the side, the remaining batter leaking out.

"Oh god." I moaned, burying my head into his shoulder. "We're as bad as Alonzo and Angela. There's no way we're finishing tonight."

Garrett's laugh rumbled in his chest and I looked up to be captivated by his green grey eyes. "That's okay. They've been together for almost two years. There must be something behind that making out."