Chapter Nine: The Food

Emma watched the sun set from Brandon's kitchen window. She couldn't see it perfectly but the pink and orange glow was unmistakable. The sun was retiring for the day. Too bad she couldn't follow its example. After all, she'd had a much busier day than any celestial body. Tomorrow would be just as bad.

Instead of climbing the stairs and burying her head beneath her covers, Emma turned to the pot of boiling water on the stove. Josef and she had taken a break for food. He'd appeared confused by the concept of eating. Then again, he hadn't eaten for about a little under four hundred years. Emma probably would have forgotten the basic mechanics as well.

Four hundred nine years old, closing in on four hundred ten. Emma thought about that as she put a bundle of spaghetti into the boiling water. She picked up the sea salt Brandon insisted was healthier and sprinkled it in the water. Would a person get bored in four hundred years? Well, clearly he was or he wouldn't be doing stupid things like falling in love with humans who were engaged to other men. Or throwing himself into a burning building just to rescue one foolhardy woman.

Emma glanced at Josef, watching his dexterous hands uncorking a bottle of red wine. She wasn't sure whether to believe the story of their relationship or not. So far her character had done just about everything she would have done if put in the situations Josef had described. Emma would have gotten mad and pushed Josef into a pool, all but ruining an expensive Armani suit. She would have accepted the challenge of a dance, then burned across the floor in the arms of another capable dancer. What she really didn't want to admit to being capable of was storming into Josef's office then letting him pin her to a wall and kiss her till she was ready to slide right out of her clothes. That part was too embarrassing for words.

Not to mention too arousing.

"It's not polite to stare," Josef pointed out while pouring them both a glass of wine. Emma blushed but watched long enough to see his hands twist the bottle when he stopped pouring to keep that lone drop of wine from sliding down the bottle and onto the nearest stainable surface. That was the move of a professional. Clearly, Josef didn't have everything done for him all the time.

"I was just thinking about how long it's probably been since you've eaten," she told him, proud of the fact that it wasn't entirely untrue. "Are you excited or something?"

"To be honest, you get over the 'I miss food' stage after the first two hundred years go by." Emma smirked. He'd made his position extremely clear. Being human was overrated.

"I'm glad you're not expecting anything great. A gourmet chef I am not." She took a tomato and basil Prego pasta sauce out of the pantry and set it on the counter. "I can open jars and heat things up."

"Well, Emma, you can console yourself with the fact that I can only open jars without a catastrophe occurring," Josef said, handing her a glass. She chuckled softly while taking a sip. It was wetter than most red wines, mostly because she hated taking a sip of a red wine that dried out her tongue.

"I hope you weren't allergic to spaghetti when you were alive or we're going to be in trouble." She poked at the noodles with a spoon, confirming that they were still on the hard side. Josef smiled.

"That's a coincidence." Emma raised a brow.

"What is?"

"The first meal I made for you was spaghetti and meatballs. Well, I didn't exactly make it but I did order it." Emma blinked, stared at the pasta and blinked again.

"Oh. That… that is a strange coincidence." Really strange. She busied her hands with the pasta sauce, pouring some of it into a glass bowl so she could heat it up in the microwave. The task distracted her from the quickening of her pulse. "When did that happen?"

"About a week after your house burned down," Josef replied. "It was our first successful date."

"Hard to believe any of our dates would be successful," Emma murmured, getting out two pasta bowls.

"You'd be surprised." She heard footsteps but she somehow wasn't expecting one large hand to slide around her waist and press against her stomach. Emma lost her balance for a second and ended up leaning against Josef for support. That was very unwise since he had no intention of keeping her on her feet. On the contrary, he seemed bent on sweeping her off of them.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, wishing it sounded more like the demand she'd wanted it to be. He brushed her hair away from her neck and pressed his mouth to the rapid beat of her pulse. Emma whimpered, much to her shame, and laced her fingers with those of the hand on her stomach.

"The better question would be: what would you like me to do?" Josef murmured, turning her in his arms until he could look into her eyes. The soft, dreamy green cut into him as it always did. He would stop if she asked. It would burn but he had a hard time refusing her when she looked like that. For that expression on her face, he would cheerfully murder anyone she wished. Emma's gaze moved from his eyes to his mouth. He didn't need any more of a hint than that.

"Josef," she whispered a moment before his mouth covered hers. Then he was kissing her and words didn't really matter. This was familiar to her. The touch of his lips was reassuring. It was like jumping into water she'd expected to be freezing cold only to find it warm and welcoming. What was more, she knew how to move with him. At least her body knew.

The microwave started beeping at her but Emma wanted to ignore it. Kissing Josef was much more interesting than getting dinner on the table. In fact, she could fall into bed with him and not think twice about it. That was, of course, completely irresponsible. Emma deliberately pulled away. "You really need to stop doing that," she managed to say, stepping out of his arms and hurrying back to the mundane chore of cooking. Josef bit back the frustrated growl that wanted to escape.

"I intend to use every weapon in my arsenal to get you back in my life." He noticed the blush in her cheeks and smirked. "A few kisses shouldn't be able to ruin the marvelous union that you seem intent on entering with Brandon. Unless, of course, those few kisses are making you rethink your decision." Emma scoffed. Although she'd been trying to block him out while getting the sauce out of the microwave and draining the pasta, her ears had been clinging to each word. Emma set the empty pot back on the stove and switched off the heat with a quick twist of her hand.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Josef, but you're not that good." The tiny voice in her head smacked its forehead and muttered about what an idiot Emma was. She couldn't help but agree when she saw the wicked gleam in Josef's eyes. Honestly, the man loved a challenge. She barely knew him, sort of, but she knew that. "Uh oh," she squeaked, making a run for the door.

"No, you don't." Josef could move faster than she could which didn't say much for her athletic skills since now he was human-slow. He caught her elbow, using the momentum she'd built up to swing her around and plaster her body against his. Emma gulped. She barely had enough time to think about how much trouble she was in before Josef swooped down and captured her lips. There was no softness here, just heat and need.

The fact that it was Josef kissing her in a kitchen jogged something loose in her memory. Several somethings, actually. Water fights, wet kisses, his broader frame pressing her against a refrigerator door while he turned her brain to mush. The remembered sensations piled onto each other so fast that she couldn't control her hands ripping at his shirt nor did she resist when Josef hauled her onto a table. Brandon and Emma shared their meals on that table. They talked about their days and wedding plans and where exactly they wanted to go on their honeymoon.

She didn't care about where she was or who she was. Or maybe she was finally beginning to care. Emma's heart was racing and skipping while her mouth attacked Josef's with just as much desperation as he had. His hands skimmed over her body and down her legs, pulling them firmly around his waist. There was still too much clothing on both of them for her position to make much of a difference but it felt good. Emma groaned, her hands faltering on the precise knot of his tie. Not just good. Sinfully good.

It wasn't as if she loved Brandon, anyway.

Emma's eyes snapped open when that all too casual thought went through her head. Oh, Jesus, she doesn't love him. She'd agreed to marry him and she really, honestly didn't love him. Josef's teeth scraped against her neck which provoked yet another rebellious though. She intended to marry a man who thought oral sex was the height of adventurous lovemaking. What the hell was she thinking?

"We need to stop," Emma said, trying to get away from Josef by crawling over the kitchen table. This time she heard the soft but dangerous rumble in his chest. He wasn't happy. In fact, he was worked up and desperate for her touch. And she was pulling away. Again.

"Your reasons had better be good," Josef muttered, looking up at her with frustrated eyes. Emma hopped off the table and ran back to the spaghetti like it was some form of sanctuary.

"You confuse me and I don't like being confused." She divided the pasta into two bowls then dumped sauce on top. Luckily it was still steaming. Frankly, she was surprised the entire kitchen wasn't steaming after the show she'd put on with Josef.

"Of course." His voice didn't sound very understanding but he wasn't pushing her. Josef was trying to see things from Emma's point of view. She had a foggy recollection of the things that had happened half a year ago. The way she reacted to him probably made her panicky and, as she'd said, confused. At least she still had those reactions. Josef shifted, more than a little uncomfortable after having Emma plastered against his body. Maybe it would have been better if she didn't react as strongly so that when she retreated he felt less like he was going to explode.

"I… I sort of…" Emma stumbled over the words, her cheeks reddening. "I remembered a little bit when we were… Um… Did we have a thing with kitchens?" Josef bit his tongue to keep from chuckling. The idea that she remembered even the tiniest thing was reassuring but the look on her face was priceless.

"You could say that."

"Anyone could say it. Would it be true if they did?" Josef thought about how to answer that while she carried the food and utensils over to the table. He retrieved their wine glasses. She was going to need a drink. Emma glanced at him when she accepted her wine. "Well?" she asked pointedly.

"It would be more accurate if someone said we had a thing for any flat surface." Emma was glad she hadn't taken a sip of wine because she would have choked on it.

"You're extremely blunt," she said, focusing her eyes on her food.

"Pot and kettle, sweetheart." Josef took a bite of pasta. If he were perfectly honest, he'd admit that he had some curiosity about food. The taste, the texture, all the little details humans seemed to fawn over. It tasted good. Very different from the liquid diet he was used to but good nonetheless. At the same time, he wasn't bowled over by the experience of eating again. He actually felt a little guilty. Mick would have enjoyed this a great deal more. Too bad the universe had foisted the experience off on a reluctant Josef.

"Don't interrupt for the next minutes or so, all right?" Emma asked, her eyes fixed on Josef's face. "You're thoughtful and a little uncomfortable because you're experiencing an emotion you don't often indulge in." She met his eyes and smiled weakly. "Sorry but I've been mentally interpreting all these different expressions you have. I just wanted to say it out loud to see how crazy I was being." Josef's smile wasn't weak. On the contrary, it was extremely enthusiastic.

"You always had an eye for details." It thrilled him to the core of his fully functioning heart. She could read him like the cover of a book even without her memory. Thank the universe for small favors.

"Well, you've been telling me things about myself all day," Emma said, annoyed at herself for blushing yet again. "A little retribution seemed fair." Josef didn't reply. He simply reached across the table, took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. His touch warmed her through and through. What frightened her most about Josef was the fact that the tension between them wasn't just sexual. There was deep emotion and connection and… Love. He loved her.

And she believed it.