Page 82 of Stolen Dreams
I kiss the top of his head, don an apron, then get to work on my own pile of ingredients. I preheat the oven and fetch a baking sheet for premade bread dough. Next, I fill a pot with water, set it on a burner, and light the element for pasta. Returning to my spot beside Tucker, I load the dough onto the pan and sprinkle herbs on top. Waiting on the oven, I chop the first of the vegetables.
And every time I peek in Kaya’s direction, her eyes are on me. Captivated. Ravenous.
It scorches my skin and makes me hard.
With the dough in the oven and pasta in the boiling water, I slice and dice my remaining ingredients with swift, precise rocks of the knife. Beef filet is the only item I leave as is.
The next time I glance at Kaya, her eyes are on my hands. Curious. Spellbound. Starved. It’s an instant dopamine shot to my bloodstream. An incomparable rush. Infinitely better than peer or online feedback.
Because Kaya matters. She’s…more.
When I don’t move on to the next task, her gaze lifts and locks onto mine. Lust and fire shimmer in her coppery-brown irises. A hunger that makes me want to cross the room, frame her face in my hands, and devour her.
With an arch of my brow and smirk on my lips, I wink and get back to work.
In a bowl, I whip up an oil and vinegar dressing with herbs and spices. Straining the pasta, I toss the noodles in the bowl with the dressing, coat them thoroughly, and set it aside to soak up the flavors. I add julienned carrots, diced cucumber and red onion, rough-chopped artichoke hearts and tomato, fresh mozzarella balls, and sliced olives. With several practiced flicks of my wrist, I mix the ingredients and coat everything with the dressing.
“How’s it going, T-Man?” I check in with Tucker.
He sets down his knife and brushes the hair out of his face. “Almost done.”
I sidle up to him and make a show of inspecting his work. “Looks perfect.” I kiss the top of his head. “Good work, bud.”
Once the bread is out of the oven, I heat a pan on the burner, add a large chunk of garlic and herb butter, and let it melt. Sizzling echoes through the kitchen when the filet hits the pan, my mouth watering as the umami aroma fills the air. Perfectly cooked, I transfer the filet to my cutting board to rest before slicing.
Abandoning my workstation, I kiss the top of Kaya’s head as I pass her. “Grabbing some take-out boxes. Be right back.”
I return with a variety of box sizes and set them out in front of me and Tucker. Pointing to each one, I tell him what we’ll put in them. And it’s the cutest thing to watch my little man delicately fill the boxes so his charcuterie ingredients stay neat. While he packs boxes, I slice the steak and bread.
With everything loaded in one of the walk-in baskets, I clean the kitchen in record time, grab a tablecloth, dishware and cutlery, and a bottle of sparkling water.
Ticking items off on his fingers, Tucker tells Kaya all the things he cut and that it’s his best work yet.
“Can’t wait to taste it all,” she tells him.
The pride in his voice eases an ever-present ache in my chest, and I pause to revel in it. My vision blurs, a subtle sting behind my eyes as I listen to him excitedly share with Kaya. Tell her things he deems important or special. The entire time, she gives him her undivided attention, absorbs every word, then praises his work.
The ground quakes beneath my feet, an irrepressible tremor rattling my hands. The sting in my eyes burns hotter as saliva pools in my mouth. I swallow, blink, and inhale a few steadying breaths.
From the start, Tucker and Kaya have had this easy connection. An effortless bond. An uncomplicated relationship I never envisioned Tucker having with a woman in my life.
I want to relish it, bask in the obvious love they share, but I’m… afraid to. Scared it won’t last.
Rising from her seat, Kaya returns the chair from where I got it, takes Tucker’s hand in hers, and asks him what fireworks his favorites are as we head for the back door.
As we step into the fading daylight, I slip my hand into hers and close my eyes for one, two, three strides, breathing in the balmy summer air and reveling in the woman at my side. Right now, everything feels right. Perfect. Exactly as it should be. I cast my fears aside and decide to live in the moment. Capture mental snapshots of the day and store them in my memory for safekeeping. Then I send out a silent wish for many more in the future. Pray I don’t forget a single minute along the way.
Winding through the trees on a foot-worn path, a table with benches comes into view, a dim light shining overhead. Waves crash against the rock face below, a hint of brine in the air as a panoramic view of the bay greets us.
When I need a mental reset during a long shift, I come out here and ignore the world for ten minutes.
“Wow,” Kaya whispers, her grip on my hand tightening. “It’s perfect.”
My thumb strokes the length of hers, my gaze locked on her profile as the sunset dances over her skin. “Flawless.” Just as I get lost in the sight of her, Tucker speaks up and snaps me out of my trance.
“Come on, Dad. Let’s set everything up. I don’t want to miss the fireworks.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him it’s impossible to miss them with nothing between us and the bay. But I bite back the comment and head for the table. “Lead the way, T-Man.”