Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I’ve got to stop.
I have no claim on Heather. Last night with her was paradise, but the memory of it didn’t stop me from fucking Ariel into oblivion this morning.
Why should I expect Heather to be any different? This is what we’re here for, after all.
I flatten and peel the rest of the garlic cloves and then I take a sharp knife and trim off the hard end where the clove was attached to the bulb. I slice each clove, gather all the slices together, and rock my knife back and forth over them to mince the garlic. As the oils are released, the savory aroma drifts over me, making my mouth water.
I love garlic, but it’s not the only thing making my mouth water.
Heather is still grating sweet potatoes and looking luscious doing it, and Alex is standing so close to her they may as well be conjoined twins. Jesus fuck!
Marc looks over my shoulder. “Great job on the garlic, Sebastian. Now do the scotch bonnet pepper so we can get this shrimp marinading.”
“What’s the dessert tonight?” I ask.
Marc laughs. “It’s hell a top, hell a bottom, hallelujah in the middle.”
I look at him like he’s got two heads. “Say what?”
“Traditional sweet potato pudding.” He continues chuckling. “Hell a top and hell a bottom implies baking with the heat above and below, with the result in the middle being perfect—or hallelujah.”
“O…kay.”
“I don’t know where that phrase comes from, but it’s apt. Sweet potato pudding is delicious. I was hoping I’d get that one, but Chef Pierre decided he wanted to work on dessert tonight since he doesn’t get to do that very often.”
“I see.” I glance again at Heather, who’s still working on the grating. Damn, she’s hot.
Marc hands me something that looks like an orange bell pepper that’s been miniaturized.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a scotch bonnet pepper. A staple in Jamaican cooking. I need you to seed it and chop it. Keep those gloves on, and be careful. Don’t touch your eyes. You’ll be sorry.”
“So it’s a hot pepper?”
“Hotter than Hades, man. Just chop it finely, and then we’ll add the other ingredients and get those shrimps marinating for a few minutes before we sauté them.”
“Got it.” I cut the pepper in half and scoop out the tiny seeds. “You don’t look so scary,” I say to the pepper as I dice it into small pieces.
Marc is helping Ariel pour her dressing over the cabbage he sliced. She uses tongs to toss it, and—
“Oh!” A heap of coleslaw plops onto the kitchen tile. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not a problem.” Marc scoops up the cabbage with his gloved hand and for a moment I think he’s going to toss it back into the bowl. He doesn’t, thank God. It goes into the sink.
“Will we still have enough?” Ariel asks.
“We’ll have plenty.” Marc smiles at her.
Ariel’s cheeks redden, and man, is she a pretty thing. Just as sexy as Heather but in a totally different way. In fact, I need to concentrate more on my little strawberry with cream. Heather is obviously otherwise occupied, and Ariel is my partner for this event.
I walk closer to her. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. I’m such a klutz, though.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re adorable.”
“An adorable klutz.” She continues tossing.
“I think that’s good.” Marc takes the bowl of coleslaw. “I’ll put this in the refrigerator to stay fresh. How’s that marinade, Sebastian?”
“I think it’s ready.” I toss the rest of the pepper into the mixture along with the chopped garlic as I wipe some sweat from my forehead. “Just toss it over the shrimp?”
Marc nods. “Yup. Make sure it’s good and coated, and then we’ll let it sit for a few before we sauté it with a little more garlic.”
“What will we do now, Marc?” Ariel asks innocently. “Everyone else is still working.”
“We got off easy, didn’t we?” Marc grins. “It just so happens that I’ve arranged a rum tasting to pass the time.”
Ariel’s pretty brown eyes widen. “A rum tasting? Like Bacardi?”
Marc’s face twists into something I don’t recognize, but then I do. He’s trying not to laugh. Bacardi sucks.
“Nope,” Marc finally says. “This is way better than Bacardi. We’ll start with Appleton Reserve Blend and then also try Blackwell Black Gold.”
“You mean you’re not going to make it into piña coladas?” Ariel asks.
“Never,” Marc says. “This is sipping rum. You like rum, Sebastian?”
“I’m more of a bourbon man, but sure, let’s try some rum.”
“Great. I’ve got it all set up out on the deck. We’ll try both rums, and when we’re done, the shrimp will be ready to sauté.”
Ariel and I follow Marc out onto the deck, where a small table and chairs are set up.
He holds up a pear-shaped bottle of amber liquid. “This is the Appleton Reserve Blend, one of my personal favorites. It’s full-bodied and balanced. You should be able to taste notes of vanilla, nutmeg, and light citrus.” He pours three shot glasses and slides two of them in front of Ariel and me. “Don’t shoot it. Sip it.”