Must Date The Chef

|| 39.

The last few days have been awkward, Paul has been careful around me, almost to the point of frustration. I get it, maybe I don't but I am trying to get used to the changes, to having people live with us. Flipping through channels, I settle for HipTV, adjust the pillow behind my head and pull the blanket up to my chin. No one is talking about me resuming work, especially Mr Adams, he has taken bed rest to mean I am incapable of working. It's worse with Paul, the only thing I am allowed to do without help is breathe.

Paul's rich voice forces my attention from the television, he flashes me a smile and my heart does a little somersault. I look away as he nears the couch, phone plugged to his ear with a tray which he drops on a stool he pulls close to me. Placing my legs on his laps, he points to the tray and I roll my eyes, at this rate, I will be triple my former size in no time. He is always trying to feed me.

The aroma from the tray tickles my nostrils, I spare it a glance and a wide grin breaks out on my face, I can never say no to him or peppered beef, he knows that, he has found my weakness. I sit up, he adjusts so my legs are still resting on his laps. Tingles shoot up from my curled toes, spreading to all parts of my body as his fingers continue tracing random shapes on the sole of my feet.

Chewing with my eyes trained on him, the smile on his face transfers to mine, I wink and blow him a kiss. His eyes return to me after a few seconds of silence, he mouths the words, "Do you want to speak with my dad?" I shake my head so fast, he chuckles. I love that he and his father have put aside their humongous egos to reconcile but I have not the slightest clue what I will say.

Hey, it's your girl, Pauline, the lady who almost cost you the election. Congratulations on winning, cheers to another four years.

A giggle escapes me, I think not too. Saying it to myself sounds ludicrous enough, I don't need to further embarrass me and Paul.

"Yes, she wants to speak to you."

The beef in my mouth loses taste as soon as those words leave Paul's lips, I hesitate to accept the phone he transfers to me until the voice from the other end asks if anyone is on the line. Pressing the phone to my ear, I murmur greetings to him and try not to freak out over the fact I am speaking to the governor of my state. I swallow when he responds with a warmer greeting and relax as Paul starts massaging my shoulders.

We exchange pleasantries, crack stale jokes, not a word about the kidnap is mentioned, a few minutes later I return Paul's phone to him after smacking him on his arm. He doesn't spend long with his father before the call ends and I lean back into the couch as his arms resume their sensual massage.

"You are not eating?" His breath fans my cheek, I insert pieces of beef into my mouth and glare at him with puffy cheeks. He chuckles, the tips of our noses brush against each other and warmth spread through me.

"Why aren't you at work?" I love our time together but it shouldn't be at the expense of the hotel. "You haven't gone in weeks."

My eyes tail his movements as he returns to place my legs on his laps, his chest catches my attention, his defined abs has my fingers itching to touch him. I suspect he parades about the house in shorts to get back at me for the antic I pulled last time, I frown, he won't even let me touch him how I want. And I want to touch him in many ways. Heat pools at my core at the reminder of that heated session, however brief and I rub my legs together to ease the throbbing.

"Someone has to be around to take care of you," I roll my eyes, "I don't have a job. You fired me, remember?" He chuckles. "Boss."

My eyes lower to my feet on his laps, the corners of my lips lift into a small smile. "I was angry, you guys lied to me. Come back."