a crepe if it is for dinner. I would rather make galettes."
"Galettes?" He sounded like he had never heard that word before.
"They are made from a heartier flour...we will make do with whatever we have. They are heavier. Crepes are sweet and for breakfast. Galettes are full meals."
"Yeah, I have ham. Can you put some cheese in it, or do galettes not have cheese?"
"Ham and cheese galettes sound great. Now scoot back to the barn. Those cows aren't going to take care of themselves. I'll clear the table."
He tugged on my earlobe, and he put on his coat to go outside.
The door closed behind him.
I felt naked but happy inside of his shirt. It was crazy to think that I had resisted him for so long. My dad had flung me at a life-long virgin. I shook my head. What was he thinking?
I would come downstairs to fix dinner in a few hours, but I think that this called for a new painting.
I took off the Demeter painting. It would wait. Instead of planning this painting, I just went at it.
I was done in just two hours. I stood back and looked at it. In this painting, the sun was shining benevolently on a cornfield in full bloom. The sky was the color of Jimmy's eyes, a little bit wrong for the kind of sky that you want to see overhead, but it was my painting. I got artistic license. The flowers underneath were flourishing under the light of the sun. They were huge, as tall as sunflowers, but they came in every color of the rainbow. They reached for the sun, and it loved them back.
I looked at it, and I knew that it was one of the best paintings I had ever done. Spontaneous, yes, but it was definitely one of the best things I'd let out. Instead of being a pretty painting, it had something more. A little more depth to it. It meant something to me, the beauty of flowers in springtime, though I was locked away in this little wooden house in the dead of winter.
I left it there to dry.
I looked at the clock. It was time for me to clean up, then I would get dinner started.
When I walked past the kitchen to go up the stairs, I saw the wine bottle resting in the sink. The water would ruin the label, but it was the fastest way to change the temperature of the wine. That was why champagne was served in buckets of ice. You didn't want water in the champagne, but being surround by ice was just as good. The converse was true.
I had gotten paint on this shirt, but I knew that I could buy him 10 more like this. I took it off, and I scrubbed off quickly in the shower in a much more utilitarian way than we had done during our shower sex, and I pulled my hair back. I fired up the stove, and I mixed together the galette batter. I found a pan that was good enough, and I used the garlic butter that he had been using earlier. I fried the ham in another pan, and I made the galettes in the first one. I put the fried ham into the galettes, and I put cheese in there to melt. It smelled really good. I saw that he had a jar of pesto in his fridge, and I brought it out as the garnish and sort of finishing touch. I put just a little bit on top. Pesto was Italian, and galettes were French, but I hoped whatever culinary gods there were would smile on this flavor combination. It might be good.
He walked into the house, and there was snow clinging in his short hair.
"Smells good."
"You don't get any of this until you pay up."
"Pay up? What, how much does dinner cost?"
"A kiss, please. Pay up."
He grinned at me, and he leaned down to kiss me lightly.
I closed my eyes, and then I shook my head. "Hmm, I don't think that was adequate payment. I think that the new price of dinner is two kisses."
"What a greedy, greedy lady you are." He bent and kissed me thoroughly this time. "Is that enough?"
I smiled up at him. "It is now, yes. Wash your hands. I'll take this off of the stove, and we can eat."
We knew the drill at this point. We got the plates together, and I put his big one on his plate and my smaller one on mine.
With the first bite, he let out a groan
"Galettes?" He sounded like he had never heard that word before.
"They are made from a heartier flour...we will make do with whatever we have. They are heavier. Crepes are sweet and for breakfast. Galettes are full meals."
"Yeah, I have ham. Can you put some cheese in it, or do galettes not have cheese?"
"Ham and cheese galettes sound great. Now scoot back to the barn. Those cows aren't going to take care of themselves. I'll clear the table."
He tugged on my earlobe, and he put on his coat to go outside.
The door closed behind him.
I felt naked but happy inside of his shirt. It was crazy to think that I had resisted him for so long. My dad had flung me at a life-long virgin. I shook my head. What was he thinking?
I would come downstairs to fix dinner in a few hours, but I think that this called for a new painting.
I took off the Demeter painting. It would wait. Instead of planning this painting, I just went at it.
I was done in just two hours. I stood back and looked at it. In this painting, the sun was shining benevolently on a cornfield in full bloom. The sky was the color of Jimmy's eyes, a little bit wrong for the kind of sky that you want to see overhead, but it was my painting. I got artistic license. The flowers underneath were flourishing under the light of the sun. They were huge, as tall as sunflowers, but they came in every color of the rainbow. They reached for the sun, and it loved them back.
I looked at it, and I knew that it was one of the best paintings I had ever done. Spontaneous, yes, but it was definitely one of the best things I'd let out. Instead of being a pretty painting, it had something more. A little more depth to it. It meant something to me, the beauty of flowers in springtime, though I was locked away in this little wooden house in the dead of winter.
I left it there to dry.
I looked at the clock. It was time for me to clean up, then I would get dinner started.
When I walked past the kitchen to go up the stairs, I saw the wine bottle resting in the sink. The water would ruin the label, but it was the fastest way to change the temperature of the wine. That was why champagne was served in buckets of ice. You didn't want water in the champagne, but being surround by ice was just as good. The converse was true.
I had gotten paint on this shirt, but I knew that I could buy him 10 more like this. I took it off, and I scrubbed off quickly in the shower in a much more utilitarian way than we had done during our shower sex, and I pulled my hair back. I fired up the stove, and I mixed together the galette batter. I found a pan that was good enough, and I used the garlic butter that he had been using earlier. I fried the ham in another pan, and I made the galettes in the first one. I put the fried ham into the galettes, and I put cheese in there to melt. It smelled really good. I saw that he had a jar of pesto in his fridge, and I brought it out as the garnish and sort of finishing touch. I put just a little bit on top. Pesto was Italian, and galettes were French, but I hoped whatever culinary gods there were would smile on this flavor combination. It might be good.
He walked into the house, and there was snow clinging in his short hair.
"Smells good."
"You don't get any of this until you pay up."
"Pay up? What, how much does dinner cost?"
"A kiss, please. Pay up."
He grinned at me, and he leaned down to kiss me lightly.
I closed my eyes, and then I shook my head. "Hmm, I don't think that was adequate payment. I think that the new price of dinner is two kisses."
"What a greedy, greedy lady you are." He bent and kissed me thoroughly this time. "Is that enough?"
I smiled up at him. "It is now, yes. Wash your hands. I'll take this off of the stove, and we can eat."
We knew the drill at this point. We got the plates together, and I put his big one on his plate and my smaller one on mine.
With the first bite, he let out a groan
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