"Baby. Yuh loving gives me fever." I sang, folding my clothes that took from the dryer minutes ago. "Yo mek mih feel like, A woulda love you, woulda love...all night."
I fold my own nicely in a pile as well as the ones Hunter had aside as well.
"Baby. Yo love is like tequila, intoxicating..." I hummed the rest as that was all I knew.
"Rae, I'm cooking tonight," Hunter announced as he was coming down the walkways.
His footsteps can't be hidden against the wooden floors.
"What's cooking, chef?" I grinned, turning to look at him.
He chuckled. "I'm making elk rack and potatoes but I want to know what you'll like differently."
"What does elk taste like?" I asked inside.
"A bit like steak and deer."
"And what does deer taste like?" I asked again and he laughed.
"I'll give you a taste if you want. You still have to choose something because I don't need you in the kitchen tonight."
That had me throwing my head back and laughing. "Whatever, Hunter. Those things eat grass like the animals I eat on a regular. Go ahead and cook your Elk, I'm curious."
"I'm making you lobster on the side." Then he turns and leaves.
"Hunter!" I laughed, folding the last thing I saw for him.
"Yes, little lady?"
I approached him with his little laundry and put it in his hand. "I'm still tasting that Elk."
"Fine." He smiles and then looks at the folded laundry. "Thanks a lot."
"Fine." I teased, turning away to get my own.
I felt his eyes on me before he walked away.
I followed right behind, staring at his back before I turned into the backroom where I was more comfortable.
Packing them in the drawers, I heard when he went to the kitchen so I hurried to go watch him.
Climbing up on the stool after I got a bowl and emptied four bags of the big lays package into it.
He saw this and smiled.
The two large pieces he had thawed in a bowl.
He cuts them into halves leaving it into four. As it's there on the cutting board after he washes it then pats it and dries it with a paper towel.
He left to grab the seasoning, herbs, and spices.
Washing them before he chopped, diced, and added them to separate bowls. For the elk, he uses a few seasonings and massages it into the meat.
I gulped, imagining those big hands massaging something else.
Who says a white man can't cook? He's doing his thing and using his seasoning and spices up to the bone.
He lets it rest a while as he puts a big grilled pan on the stove. Putting a little olive oil in there and left it on low heat.
I continued to munch on the lays, watching his every move.
From pulling a bottle of white wine and adding some to a pot with vinegar, pepper, and finely diced herbs. He puts that on the stove and attends to the elk. Making sure it's cooked on both sides perfectly.
The wine thing finished quickly and he strained it into another bowl. Putting it over a pot with simmering water, adding three egg yokes and mix. Then he added melted butter and the kitchen was soon filled with flavor.
