Road to Redemption (18 page)

“Teach me how to cook,” Cori demanded when Brooke slid perfected deveined shrimp into the butter and garlic mixture on the stovetop. 

Brooke must not have heard her correctly. She gave the shrimp a final stir and checked her pasta, then turned back to Cori. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.  Teach me how to cook, please? Maybe a meal?” she amended. “Something easy.”

“Why?” Brooke asked. “You’ve never seemed interested in cooking before. You’re always more interested in eating. You’ve never really cared where the food came from or how it was prepared. Does Jack want you to cook for him?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. Though I’m sure he doesn’t approve of my dietary regimen.”

She stuck her tongue out at Brooke when that produced a snort. “Anyway, as I was saying. He has never said anything. I don’t think he cares. But he can’t cook either, other than eggs that I know of.  Shouldn’t I know how to make at least a few easy dishes at this point in my life?” she asked helplessly.

“Not necessarily. My mother never learned to cook,” she said, joking while she poured the white wine into the sauté pan, stirred the shrimp again, then tossed them around in the air.

“Well, I’m not in the position to hire a cook, so, help me, please? I managed to serve the meal you prepared the other night just fine, and Jack loved it. I want to do something nice for him on Sunday.”

***

“Brooke, help!” Cori wailed into the phone Sunday afternoon.

“Relax,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s bubbling. You said not to let it bubble,” Cori said in a screech, then looked at the red sauce in the big pan spilling out onto the stovetop.

“How high do you have the heat?” Brooke asked calmly.

“I don’t know. Not on high. You said not to put it on high, so I didn’t,” she said, explaining, her voice continuing to rise.

Brooke sighed and tried another approach. “What number is that dial turned to?”
              “Oh, eight. It’s on eight.”

“Turn it to three for now. You have it too high,” she said, reassuring Cori.

“You told me not to turn it to ‘high.’ You didn’t tell me eight was high. How am I supposed to know that?”

“Take a deep breath, Cori. It’s a pot of spaghetti sauce.  Make sure you stir it every now and again so it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan.”

“It can stick? How does sauce stick? I thought I only had to worry about the pasta sticking to the pan?” Cori groaned and laid her head down on the counter next to the oven. “How did I get myself into this mess? It’s not funny,” she accused Brooke when she heard laughter on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, it is.  Anyway, did you bake the meatballs for twenty minutes like I explained?”

“Yeah, but they still looked raw when I put them in the sauce. I can’t serve him raw meatballs. This was a mistake. Darn it, what was I thinking?” She groaned again. “I’m going to give Jack food poisoning. What a great Valentine’s Day gift,” she said, near tears.

“Stop it right now,” Brooke said, scolding her. “Get a hold of yourself. What is wrong with you? It’s a spaghetti dinner. I’ve never seen you like this.  You’ve got plenty of time. It will simmer now. It needs to for several hours anyway.  When’s Jack coming?”

Cori took a deep breath and pulled herself together.  She looked at the clock on the oven. “Around four.”

“Then you’ve got three hours for the meatballs to cook, that’s plenty of time.  Besides, the longer the sauce cooks, the better it tastes. Keep stirring it every thirty minutes or so and you’ll be fine.”

Another exaggerated deep breath and Cori felt more composed. “Great, I’ve got this. I think. Thanks. I can handle the rest of the night, but this dinner thing is making me nervous. I want it to be perfect,” she said, sticking out her bottom lip.

“It’s the effort that counts. I’m sure Jack will think so, too.”

***

Jack stepped into Cori’s living room, stomped the snow off his boots, then leaned over to take them off.  He tossed his jacket over the back of her chair and pulled the hat off his head.

“You cut your hair,” Cori said as she looked at the shorter waves on top, his hair now closely cropped around his ears and neck. “Very
GQ
. Whoa.”

He actually started to blush, causing her to laugh.  “All you need is a bit of stubble and you would be ready to model.” She winked at him. “I know you’ve got the body for it. I’ve seen it firsthand,” she added, running her hand up his chest, watching his blush deepen.

“Are you done critiquing my look?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“Oh, no. Not critique, complementing is more like it.  Not that I didn’t like it a bit longer. That was pretty sexy in a windblown casual way.  So, why did you cut it?” she asked, reaching up on her tiptoes and running her hands through his hair affectionately.

“It needed to be trimmed,” he said. “And I told the girl to cut it short, figuring I wouldn’t have to go back again for a while. It’s hard enough to find time as it is.”

“Oh, so you are going to let it go back to the windblown look? Yay, me. It’s going to be like dating two different guys.  Two different models,” she corrected.

He ignored her and walked into the kitchen to get a beer that she had been habitually restocking for him. “That smells good,” he commented as he lifted the lid. “Brooke’s work again?”

“No, I made it with Brooke’s help,” she smiled proudly.

He looked so horrified her smile vanished and her shoulders dropped. “Brooke helped me,” she repeated. “And I’ve been bugging her all afternoon with updates. She assured me I wouldn’t give you food poisoning.”

He grimaced. “I’m sure it’s going to be good.  You did a good job with her other dish,” he reminded her. “And I’m touched that you wanted to eat in rather than go out today. Today is probably the worst Hallmark holiday on the earth.”

She smiled tentatively. “Yeah, well, Brooke did all the work for that last one. I only cooked it. But I really did everything this time.  I never realized how many ingredients went into spaghetti and meatballs.”

She laughed in memory. “You should have seen Brooke’s face when I told her I would grab a jar of sauce.  She refused to help me if I did that, told me I had to make the sauce from scratch, or it was cheating.”

“Well, I’m glad you did it.” He leaned in to give her a kiss.

He was getting situated on the couch with his unopened beer when his phone rang.

Cori leaned over and grabbed it off the coffee table where he set it with his keys when he came in.  She noticed Dr. Smith’s name, the Head of Orthopedics, appear on the screen and handed it to him with a frown on her face.

Then she sat there listening to his end of the conversation, which consisted of less than three words total, including his greeting.  When she heard his deep sigh she felt the disappointment set in.

Ending the call, he turned to her. “I’m sorry.  I need to run in quick.” He started to explain when she looked upset. “I shouldn’t be long. It seems the teenage son of a major donor to the hospital went down hard on his knee while playing basketball with his friends. Since several colleges are currently scouting him, the parents are upset.  They requested the best, and that’s me,” he said with a smile.

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood. So she plastered a fake smile on her face. “I’ll hold dinner for you. Text me when you are on your way back,” she said when he stood up.

He looked at her thoughtfully. “You said you knew what to expect dating a doctor,” he reminded her.

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it, though. No worries. Go do your doctor thing. I’ll be waiting for you,” she said and picked up his unopened beer, intending to place it back in the refrigerator.

***

Almost two hours later, Jack found himself removing his boots in Cori’s living room for a second time.  He was starving and in desperate need of a beer after spending the last hour calming the careless teen’s parents, reassuring them the injury was only a bad bruise and it wouldn’t affect their son’s performance in the least.  He told the young player to rest for a week, keep ice on it, take it easy, and everything would be good as new.

Too bad he didn’t think things would be so good with Cori.  He knew she was upset. She hadn’t put up too big of a fuss and he appreciated it. But he felt the need to make it up to her.

So on his way out of the hospital he took a quick detour to the gift shop and picked up flowers. Then saw the huge chocolate kiss and grabbed that too. Chocolate always softened her up.

When she saw the goodies in his hands she smiled. Then eyed him accusingly. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t. You’ll get your other gift after dinner. Unless you want it now?” he asked. She didn’t need to know he bought that gift right before he came over the first time today.

As he was leaving the beauty salon in the mall he noticed all the signs in the windows advertising Valentine’s Day, prompting him to check the date on his phone. Sure enough it was February fourteenth, causing him to swear.

It took him longer than he thought to find just the right gift, but in the end he thought it was perfect.

“I want it now.” She grinned and held out her hand. He knew she really didn’t believe he remembered and she wanted to put him on the spot, but she was in for a surprise.

He pulled the slim gift-wrapped box out of his jacket pocket and placed it in her hand.  Her jaw dropped and he was never so happy to have picked today to get a haircut.

Dashing to the couch, she sat down and started to rip the paper off, like everything else she did in life, in a hurry. 

The name on the jewelry box indicated he didn’t buy his gift at the hospital after all.  She lifted the lid and tears formed in her eyes. She took a closer look and then started to laugh.

“If it doesn’t fit, we can bring it back to get adjusted. I told them you were tiny, so they shortened it already.”

He reached in the box and pulled out the dainty silver link bracelet and clasped it around her wrist, turning it so she could admire the two silver charms dangling on the end.  A heart and a pair of lips. The same two items that were on her scrubs this week when he bought her lunch in the cafeteria.

“I love it!” She reached over and gave him a big kiss.  “You redeemed yourself,” she said with a huge grin.” She was still holding him when they heard a hissing sound from the kitchen causing her to jump up in alarm. “Crap. The pasta.”

Jack let himself in the front door of his house several hours later.  Of course Roxy was there to greet him.  When she noticed what was in his hand, she started to jump up and down, trying not to hit him with her front paws, but not succeeding.

“What? You want this?” he asked of the gigantic rawhide bone with a red ribbon tied around it in his hand. Handing it to her, he ran his hand down her back when she took hold of the large treat.

He grinned as he watched her settle down to enjoy the massive bone and thought back in amazement over the last few hours.  He was never going to think of Valentine’s Day as a made up Hallmark holiday again.  Matter of fact, it might be his favorite holiday ever. 

Hours earlier they had run into the kitchen after they heard the hissing sound.  The pasta water had boiled over, scorching the stovetop. The pasta looked three sizes bigger than it should have, even after running cold water on it in hopes of rinsing off some of the starch.  But it was edible, if a bit chewy. He had to admit she did a pretty decent job with the sauce and meatballs, and told her so.

It wasn’t that it was the first dinner she ever cooked in her life that made it memorable. Or even the gift she gave him—though he had to admit she did a good job there. She had handed him a bright red bag with pink and white tissue paper overflowing from it. Inside he found a large bag of M&M’s—peanut butter—since she realized he liked them the best. A six-pack of his favorite craft beer and two paper coupons, redeemable for hour-long massages, completed the gift. Nothing more a man could want than a gift like that.

But what made the night really memorable was her dessert.  She had remembered he’d mentioned Strawberry Shortcake was his favorite when they were discussing her sweet tooth at another time. When she pulled out the bowl of strawberries neatly sliced soaking in sweet sugared juices, a can of whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then grabbed the mini angel food cakes, he assumed they were going to make their own at the table.

He was only partially right. They made their own all right—in her bedroom, on each other.  It was by far the messiest and most sexual experience of his life. 

It was his dessert, so of course she told him he had to make the first one.  Remembering her body’s response to the cold strawberries slices being placed on her skin, then licking them off piece-by-piece was making his body stir again. 

She really enjoyed the whipped cream the best.  Spraying it on each of her nipples and slowly licking it off her body while she moaned and arched her back into his mouth, then trailing a line of the sticky cool cream down her waist and below, licking and sucking it off as he went.  He wanted to drive her crazy and he did.

After her first orgasm she announced it was her turn. Only he said he was still hungry, and proceeded to have two more helpings.  She should have been spent after coming three times, but she wasn’t.

Shoving him on his back, she decided to have her way with him, devouring more of the sticky sweet dessert off his much larger body.  When he told her he couldn’t take anymore, she laughed at him and grabbed the can of whipped cream, only to start on a different part of his body.

She finally deemed herself full as she climbed on top of him and rode him for everything she had. He was totally exhausted in the end. 

The sound of her spraying more whip cream in her mouth was the only thing that got him to move at that point. He was embarrassed to admit he didn’t think he could take anymore. 

As he was pulling his shirt on, she jumped out of bed—naked of course—and ran to her closet. “Oh, I forgot the other gift.”

He groaned and hoped it wasn’t lingerie. He really didn’t want to humiliate himself by crying defeat.  She had endless energy and he had no way to keep up.

But she produced the rawhide bone with a ribbon attached and said, “Roxy gets a gift too.”