Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Well I had a big-ass lunch, and I think I can still eat that whole burger, Eddie. It looks so good.”
“Okay.” Edison smiled and started scooping the large wedge fries out of a deep pot of oil.
The lights in the other parts of the house were dimmed but the dining area and kitchen were brightly lit, and Bishop found himself ready and eager to get started. Almost desperate to show Edison what he could do. How not stupid he was. Soft instrumental music played on Edison’s sound system, and he wondered if this was the kind of music he always listened to.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Edison said, watching him from the open kitchen. “What do you want to drink? That’s sweet tea on the table but I also have juice, sodas… or beer. I don’t really drink but I got some today in case…”
“Tea is good,” Bishop said as he propped his large sketch pad along the back of the bench. He poured himself some of the cold tea into what he assumed was his designated glass and took a large gulp. It was really sweet and refreshing going down his parched throat.
“Sweet enough for you?” Edison smiled in that shy, sexy way that Bishop liked.
He hoped he gave him an expression that showed his satisfaction. Edison’s cheeks were slightly pinkish when he looked away.
“It’s good,” Bishop said. He wanted to sit at the breakfast nook and watch Edison move around so freely in his kitchen. It was clear that’s where he felt the most at ease, so much so that he’d started to flirt.
Edison turned down the lights in the kitchen and brought the heaping plate of hot fries to the table and set them next to the burgers. “I can’t wait to see what you designed, Bishop,” he said. “I already know it’s going to be amazing.”
Bishop took his seat, watching in fascination as Edison put the burgers onto large buns and gestured to him to help himself. It was clear that he’d put a lot of work into their meal, and Bishop appreciated it more than Edison could possibly fathom. It’d been years since someone had cared for him in this way, praised him, encouraged him… fed him. This was supposed to be about business, and already he was nowhere near that vicinity. Was it insane that he wanted to reach over and cup Edison’s jaw and drag him to his mouth?
When they were seated, they both dug in with gusto. Bishop piled lettuce, tomato, a little mayo and ketchup on his burger, opting to avoid the onions. After the first bite he took, the juice from the perfectly cooked beef ran down his chin, making Edison laugh as he swiped some of the runny yoke from the corner of his own lips. The fries were crispy and had some kind of hard salt on top that he’d never tasted before. Both of them were starving, because it wasn’t until they were halfway finished that Bishop came up for air to speak.
“How’d you learn to cook like this? I’ve never heard of a man cooking this good.” Bishop leaned against the back of the bench cushion and patted his stomach, “I’m almost full and I still have half a burger left.”
Edison bit his fry in half and chewed until his mouth was clear before he answered, “I’ve been cooking since I was like twelve years old. You really don’t know any men that like to cook?”
Bishop frowned, shaking his head. “Not like this.”
Edison wiped his mouth after each bite he took, and Bishop had to remind himself not to wipe his hands on his damn jeans. “If you watch any food shows on TV you’ll see that most of the cooks, the judges, and experts are mostly men.”
Bishop nodded. “Did you take any cooking classes or something? This is some real gourmet stuff right here.”
“No.” Edison hid his smile behind his napkin. “My pop had to often work long hours and when I was younger, I was always there at the shop with him. But when I was in middle school, I started staying home alone and that meant I had to feed myself. There was an elderly lady who lived a couple doors down—she’s passed now—but she’d come check in on me while my pop was at work, or I’d sit down there with her until her husband came home. I’d watch her make dinner for her family, fascinated with the smells and sweets she could make permeate the entire house. She was so kind and she used to say there was nothing wrong in a person’s life that a plate full of love couldn’t fix. Long story short. She started to teach me a few things and I expanded from there. I watched cooking shows, ordered a few cookbooks and the next thing I know, I was making dinner for me and pop. And he would go crazy bragging about it, too.” Edison laughed softly, “Which only made me want to learn more and cook better.”