Summary: While MC (Lydia) attempts to cook dinner, Zig proves himself to be somewhat of a distraction to her.
Notes: This is a follow up fic to my Wanderlust series.
“What is that amazing smell?” Zig asked as he entered the kitchen and fell into a chair. “Man, I’m exhausted.”
“Did everything go okay with the delivery?” Lydia asked as she stirred the pot on the stove. “Thanks for staying to take care of that, by the way.”
“Yeah, everything was fine, the delivery driver just got held up in traffic. And don’t worry about it, I was happy to do it.”
Their coffee shop, The Poet’s Corner, had been a lot of work so far, but everything had been going relatively smoothly so far. They’d been open for about eight months and had already established themselves as a popular spot for the literary crowd both in and around Hartfield.
Zig stood up and walked up behind Lydia at the stove, wrapping his arms around her waist. He brushed his lips against the soft curve of her neck and she grinned.
“To answer your question, I’m making jambalaya,” Lydia said. “I figured we’d mix it up and go cajun tonight.”
“Sounds great,” Zig murmured, trailing his kisses up to her ear.
“Excuse me, Mr. Ortega, I’m trying to cook here,” she said, not sounding even remotely bothered by him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, slipping his hands underneath her t-shirt and running his fingertips along the tops of her jeans.
“Uh huh, sure you don’t,” she said. Zig brushed her hair away from her shoulders and kissed his way down the back of her neck. “If you don’t stop distracting me, I’m going to burn the food. Or myself.”
“It needs to simmer for awhile anyway, right?” he asked. “I’m just trying to give you something to do while you wait.”
“Very considerate of you,” Lydia teased. She set down the wooden spoon she was using on the spoon rest and turned around to face him. He angled her away from the stove, towards the counter, and kissed her deeply. Lydia ran her fingers through Zig’s hair, pulling her husband closer to her as they kissed.
The jambalaya simmered, forgotten, on the stove.
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