Baby Love Me Page 4

  Shit! Suddenly, Hunter remembered he was still wearing his ridiculous bathrobe, goggles, and shower cap. He hastily removed the cap and goggles and placed them on the kitchen bench. He roughly combed back his hair and stood facing his partner. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to smell like cooking oil. Guess you caught me red handed. I look stupid, right?”

  Clarice stood up on tiptoe and leaned forward until her nose caressed Hunter’s cheek. Then she took a sniff and stood back.

  “You look handsome in whatever you wear,” she said, looking into his eyes, and then paused at his hair. She ran her fingers through it then. Short but still long enough for me to grip. “The new hairstyle really suits you.”

  Hunter grinned like he just won a million-dollar prize.

  “You like it?” he asked, eagerly awaiting another praise.

  “Yes.”

  Hunter grinned even wider.

  “But it’s a shame you didn’t smell like you were cooking with that bathrobe and shower cap on.”

  Hunter scrunched up his face in disappointment.

  “Shouldn’t a man smell of home cooked food when he’s in the kitchen, not some freshly scented male from a fragrance shop?”

  “So you like men who smell of overcooked garlic and oil?” he asked with pouted lips.

  “No, I like a man who smells of overcooked food. Not men. It just shows he puts all his effort and hard work into the task, not pretending to be a chef in name only.”

  Hunter grabbed Clarice’s waist and pulled her forward, making her lose her footing so she stumbled into him for support. Just where he wanted her.

  Leaning in so he was mere inches from her lips, he huskily spoke, “Then forgive this clean-scented man.” He smiled at her and gave her a knee-weakening welcoming home kiss. Once done, he pulled back and said, “From now on, I’ll try to smell like the man you like, one worthy of your love.”

  Yes, Hunter thought. Out goes the bathrobe and shower cap. Up next, full-on jumper with a knitted top to absorb all that garlic and cooking flavor, so Clarice can see I’m the man that will measure up to her standards.

  Chapter 5

  Hunter didn’t need to have a degree in rocket science to know his dish looked ugly. Even a five-year-old could tell that. Heck, even a five-year-old could cook better than him, but he wasn’t to be put down. He put the dish on the table and seated Clarice. She only smiled at him as he set out her glass of water and spoon on either side of her plate. He sat opposite her and looked at her, then said, “From now on, baby, I’ll learn how to cook so I can become a better housewife. All you have to do is look pretty.”

  Clarice almost choked on her saliva. “Hunter. You? A housewife?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, sounding serious. “Since you’ll be going out to work, I’m the one who’s here to take care of the housework.”

  Clarice stared at Hunter like he’d sprouted an extra head. Then she started laughing.

  “You don’t believe me?” he asked. “I’m really serious here. I know my skills in the kitchen department are lacking, but I’m willing to learn.”

  Clarice couldn’t believe her ears. Here Hunter was acting like her perfect soul mate, cooking and looking after her like she’d dreamed of. She really was falling in love with this man, deeper and deeper, and she found she didn’t regret her decision one bit.

  “Well, Hunter,” she said once she’d calmed down enough. “I respect your decision. And I’m happy for you to be the housewife, or in your case, the househusband.” Then she took a spoonful of her fried rice into her mouth and paused.

  Hunter also paused, eyes lit up, his breathing stopped.

  “Well?” he probed, growing impatient when all Clarice did was chew and chew. “What does it taste like? Nice?”

  “Mmm.” Clarice nodded, then forced a swallow. “It tastes nice.”

  “Nice?” Hunter asked again. “Are you sure?”

  “Mmm.” Clarice nodded again. Then she stood and went to prepare more plain rice in the rice cooker. She started adding the plain rice into her fried rice, mixing it all together.

  Hunter was curious as to why Clarice did this. He took a spoonful into his own plate and tasted it. He almost choked the whole thing back up. Not only did it look ugly, but it tasted disgusting.

  Hunter tore the spoon from Clarice halfway to her mouth. Then he took away the dish of fried rice and threw the whole lot into the rubbish bin. Clarice could only sit there looking confounded.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed. “I’m eating my dinner here. Why did you throw it away?”

  “I’m a good-for-nothing partner.” Hunter groaned, sitting back in the chair, defeated. “I can’t even cook a simple fried rice. How can I look after you in the long run?”

  “Ah, come on, Hunter. It tasted fine.” Clarice tried to ease Hunter’s worry.

  “Fine? That was so salty. How could you eat it, baby?”

  “It tasted fine, especially when the plain rice is added in.”

  “How can you say it’s fine when you have to add plain rice into it?” Hunter was all riled up now. “I know I feel sorry for the people starving in the world, but baby, I can’t have you eating that. I’m cooking you some cup noodle.”

  “Why don’t we eat rice porridge instead? I feel like some rice porridge tonight.” Clarice touched Hunter’s hand.

  Hunter paused, if only for a second. Then he moaned again. “But I don’t know how to cook rice porridge.”

  Goddamn. Why can’t I do something right for once?

  “Then you can learn,” Clarice said before she went to collect the ingredients from the pantry.

  With rice and water and a pinch of salt boiling over the stove, Clarice turned her attention to the eggs.

  “Show me how to whisk and cook the eggs,” Hunter said, watching Clarice delicately holding the eggs in her hands.

  “Okay.” Clarice smiled and proceeded to pick up the large bowl. “First, crack two to three eggs into the bowl, depending on how many eggs you want to eat. I like to eat about two. That’s enough for me. But since you’re here too, we’ll double that.”

  “Uh-hm.” Hunter smiled as he watched his partner whisking the eggs in the bowl.

  “Then add a pinch of salt and sugar,” Clarice said, pinching in some salt and sugar into the egg mixture. “But make sure you mix it well, so they blend in together. Otherwise, the salt and the sugar get clumped up separately and when the egg is cooked, some parts will taste salty and others will taste sweet.”

  “You know, it’s great you’re teaching me now,” Hunter commented. He was propped up on the bench, smiling like a dork, watching Clarice cooking. “Just in case you get sick, I’ll cook rice porridge for you.”

  “That’s right, Hunter. When I’m sick, you can cook for me. I would like that very much.” Clarice smiled while continuing to whisk the mixture fiercely.

  Hunter was mesmerized by his partner, so hard at work. All of a sudden, he felt the urge to kiss her lips.

  “Can I kiss you, baby?” he asked out of the blue.

  “No!” Clarice said firmly, her concentration all on her eggs. “Now be a good student and watch.”

  Of course, Hunter didn’t listen to her. He kissed her anyway. When Clarice turned a scowl toward him, he kissed her again, then said, “Don’t scowl, or I’ll kiss you again.”

  Clarice shook her head and started pouring the readied mixture into the pan, deciding to just let Hunter have his way. She started with frying the egg. Once it was done, she lifted the huge omelet onto the chopping board and started cutting up the eggs.

  “Now cut the eggs into shreds, like this,” she instructed.

  “Oh, oh, I want to do this bit.” Hunter came around to stand behind her.

  “Here, the knife,” she said.

  “No, you cut it,” Hunter said, smirking, refusing to take the knife from her hand.

  “But I thought you wanted to cut the eggs,” she said, confused.

  “No. You hold the knife and I’ll hol
d your hand.” Hunter smirked again.

  “Why?” Clarice frowned, knowing Hunter was up to something.

  “Because the strands might be too big.” He smiled cheekily. “Come on. I want to hold your hand. Then I’ll know how big to cut it next time.”

  “Okay.” Clarice shook her head, smiled, and gave in. “Now cut it this thin.”

  “Yes, cut it that thin.” Hunter repeated.

  As Clarice cut the omelet, Hunter huddled behind her like a cloak, holding her hand while she made the thin slices. He smiled at the comfort and love he felt in his chest.

  Clarice was oblivious to all of this as she concentrated on cutting the omelet into perfect strands. Once finished, she went to check on the pot of porridge on the stove. Hunter followed and stood behind her again.

  “Okay. Now we check on the rice,” Clarice said, her hand stirring the porridge in the pot. “Make sure it’s not too thick or too runny. I like mine slightly runny, so lots of water for me,” she told Hunter.

  “Okay, runny with lots of water,” Hunter cited, nodding his head.

  “Here, taste this.” Clarice spooned some porridge into the cutlery and fed it to Hunter. “Like it? It’s supposed to taste a little salty, but when we eat it with the omelet, it tastes spectacular.”

  “Mmm. Beautiful,” Hunter hummed as he took a bit more into his mouth, tugging the spoon when Clarice wanted to take it out.

  Clarice could only shake her head in a loving manner. “It is, isn’t it? Now you know what to do.” She turned and was about to put the spoon in the sink when Hunter tugged her arm again.

  “Let me taste it again,” he asked like a little boy wanting more candy.

  “Okay. Here.” Clarice spooned a bit more into his mouth.

  “Delicious,” Hunter said again. Then because he couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and smacked his lips with Clarice’s.

  “Hunter!” She swatted his arm. “How embarrassing. You still have porridge in your mouth.”

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He chuckled cheekily, then kissed her again. “It’s called indirect tasting.” Then he took more fill of those lips.

  The sky had turned black and the streetlights were like twinkling stars by the time Hunter and Clarice had finished dinner. Later that evening, Clarice sat on the couch in her nightdress, propped up with cushions, reading her favorite book. Hunter, on the other hand, had his head on Clarice’s lap, watching television, so serene and at peace with everything. If one were to look, one would assumed he was interested in the show, but truth be told, he was bored stiff. There was nothing worth watching. Turning his attention to his partner, he asked, “What are you reading?”

  “Romance,” Clarice replied nonchalantly.

  “Romance? Ugh.”

  “Mmm.” Clarice nodded, not giving Hunter her attention.

  “Who’s it by?” Hunter interrupted again.

  Clarice put down her book and stared at him shrewdly, then shook her head as if assessing whether he was truly interested. So she simply replied, “You wouldn’t know her even if I told you.” Then she went back to her book.

  “Try me?” Hunter interrupted yet again.

  Clarice put down her book, knowing full well Hunter wouldn’t be leaving her alone until he got what he wanted. “Alexia Praks. Do you know her?”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know her.” Hunter shook his head and rested on her lap again.

  “She’s been around for a while now, but I guess you boys don’t read romance.”

  “Yeah, you’re right there again, baby.”

  After another quiet spell of peacefulness in the lounge, Clarice was once again interrupted by Hunter tapping on her book.

  “So what’s it about?” he asked.

  Clarice sighed and gave up on reading altogether. “It’s about this guy named Jayden hiring this girl so she can pretend to be his girlfriend so his family doesn’t hound him about getting married.”

  “Sounds like a typical romance storyline.” He scoffed, looking at the front cover. “Even the front cover looks typical of a romance.”

  “It is, but the way she writes the book is very good. Plus, the main female protagonist is half Cambodian like me,” Clarice said proudly.

  Somehow she felt happy she had something in common with the main character in His Hired Girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice to star in your own novel? she wondered. And she really hoped Hunter would be her male protagonist.

  “Really?” Hunter perked his head up in interest. “How about the main guy? What’s he like? Is he handsome like me?” Hunter asked, pleased there was a topic he was interested in for once.

  “No,” Clarice replied mildly.

  “What?” Hunter asked in disbelief. In all his life, he’d never heard of anyone more handsome than he was. Even a fictional character should never take that title from him. This really bruised his ego. He sat up straight and stared at Clarice. “No, as I’m more handsome than him, or no, as in he’s more handsome than me.”

  “No, as in Jayden’s more handsome and smarter than you,” Clarice replied, smiling behind the book she was pretending to read. “Plus, he’s older.” She couldn’t help but add that line. She wanted to see how Hunter would react if she were to bruise his ego a bit.

  And the result was… Well, she did ask for it.

  “All right. Enough now.” Hunter growled, sitting up and snatching the book away. And he deliberately hid it behind the coffee table, out of her reach. Hunter sat staring at her in his perturbed way, then said in a very serious tone, “He’s only a fictional character, whereas I’m the real thing.”

  Okay, I really did bruise his ego, Clarice thought. Dear heaven, is Hunter really that sensitive?

  “So?” She eyed him, pretending to not understand what he meant by that, then tried to get past him to grab the book. Her hand was already on it when Hunter intervened in her path.

  “Oh yeah? So can this Jayden do this?” Hunter surprised her by leaning in and kissing her softly on the lips, which made her shudder and drop her book. “Or this?” Then he sent feathery kisses along the side of her temple all the way down to the nape of her neck. “Can he, Clarice, can he?”

  “Hunter? Are you jealous of a fictional character?” she asked, her voice quivering with each kiss Hunter placed on her skin.

  “You’re not answering my question.” Hunter continued to trail sweet kisses. “Tell me, can he do this to you, this Jayden?”

  “Noo…” Clarice shook her head. “Enough now, Hunter,” she moaned. “Please. I’m in the middle of reading. Please stop.”

  “Then tell me with your body that you want to stop, because I’m not listening to the words you’re saying.”

  Hunter continued to kiss her, and her body was responding to all of his signals. She wanted him; she wanted him so badly.

  “Clarice, I want you right now.”

  Hunter sank his lips to hers once more, savoring her sweet nectar, capturing her within his hold. Then when he could no longer hold it, he picked her up and took her to their bedroom, ravishing her until she pleaded for him to share her world, lost to the feel of his embrace, to his hugs and his kisses, not awakening until the next morning.

  Chapter 6

  It was only odd occasions Clarice found the time to spend with Hunter in the bathroom. Usually those mornings only occurred when she woke up early and had plenty of time to spare. But because most of the time she was in her flustered state of getting ready for work, she would freshen up in the bathroom alone. This morning, though, it was one of those odd occasions she and Hunter occupied the same bathroom.

  Clarice eyed her partner with one eye when he walked in. Hunter picked up his toothbrush and started brushing his teeth beside her. This morning she could see his stubble was getting rather long.

  It was getting annoying actually. She’d told him countless times already that she didn’t like his stubbled jaw, especially after what happened the previous night. Every time they made
love, he would always rub his rough jaw against her cheeks and other places she was too embarrassed to name. And when he did, it made her long for him, want him, think about him ravishing her and—

  “Why didn’t you shave? Are you trying to look like Moses, because he looks way hotter than you right now?” she asked, trying to distract her own thoughts.

  Hunter turned to Clarice and grinned. “I was waiting for you to shave it for me, avocado. I thought it’s about time you learn how to shave my beard.”

  Hunter extracted a razor from his toiletry bag and presented it to her.

  “Ha!” She scoffed, eyeing the razor and then turning back to her task. “Who wants to shave your beard?” she said between brushing her teeth.

  Hunter set the razor down with a clang and turned his eyes to his partner. “You do. I see you always rubbing my stubble. Especially after what happened last night. Now be responsible and shave it.”

  Clarice’s cheeks burned bright cherry. A throbbing need developed down below, but before she could calm herself, she found herself sitting on Hunter’s lap with a razor in her hand and half of Hunter’s face all lathered up with white foam.

  “I’m scared, Hunter,” she said nervously, eyeing the sharp razor. “I’ve never done this before. This is too intimating.”

  “It’s what a girlfriend should do for a boyfriend.” Hunter soothed her nerves and presented his chin to her.

  “When did I become your girlfriend?” Clarice scolded.

  “Okay, we jumped that stage. You’re my partner now. And you’ll be having my baby soon. So start shaving, woman. Learn what a good wife should do for a husband.”

  “Who’s your wife?” Clarice scolded again.

  “You are.”

  “We’re not married.”

  “I know. I’m not going to propose until you say you love me.” He grinned cheekily, then closed his eyes and offered his chin to her again. “Now start shaving.”

  “Huh!” Clarice got mad and shaved his stubble with vigorous force, except she applied too much pressure and cut his chin.

  “Oww,” Hunter whined, giving off a wounded puppy sound. Crimson droplets dripped onto his bare chest.