Suit & Tie

Chapter 53-Hamptons home & Mumbling mess

"I think the correct term in château!"

* * * *

The upstairs of the house was even cozier than the main level. There were a few smaller bedrooms, what seemed to be a makeshift movie theatre, and even a personal library tucked into the corner. The only thing lacking seemed to be a bowling alley.

"You don't have a fucking indoor bowling alley," I called as soon as he stepped back inside from the business calls. "Why do I even keep you around?"

"My charming personality," he deadpanned.

"I think it's more your cooking abilities."

Shawn swooped down to kiss my forehead as he walked past me, tugging me behind him with one hand and somehow managing to text something on the other. I followed after him into the kitchen and pulled myself up onto the granite counter top. It was natural how Shawn just ignored all my offerings to help and instead picked through the refrigerator before apparently deeming something good enough to prepare. He moved around quickly and efficiently, chopping things here and there before adding them to a pot and then shoving something else in the oven.

For the most part, I sat there watching him, dangling my legs off the edge of the work surface and trying to hide my fond smile when Shawn smudged flour on his cheek. If I wasn't completely and utterly in love with him before, I definitely would be then. I moved my legs out of the way as Shawn passed by me again and began searching the cabinets.

"So what are you making?"

"Pear and pomegranate salad with Gorgonzola and champagne vinaigrette, spice-glazed chicken with red wine-coffee pan sauce, homemade mash, and chocolate chip cookies," he replied easily, eyes still scanning spices.

"I got champagne, red wine, coffee, and cookies out of that," I said grinning. "Sounds lovely."

In passing, Shawn slapped me with a towel. "A meal fit for a king."

"You've got the palace to match it!" I gasped.

"Some might mistake you for the real royal prince back home if you're not careful." Shawn shrugged his shoulders. "That must make you a real life Kate Middleton."

"Please," I scoffed, "I do not have the grace to even remotely compare."

"And I don't have the manners to compare to the prince, but you still went there," he shot back. He stirred something in the pan some more before frowning and scooping up a little bit in the spoon and holding it out towards me. "Taste."

I complied eagerly as Shawn watched with curious eyes and a tiny little furrow in between his brow, waiting on my critique. Even if it was worse than the pumpkin muffins that Russo had attempted a few weeks ago, I probably would have just grinned stupidly and asked for seconds.

"Okay?" He asked, all doe-eyed and red-lipped and cheeks flushed from the heat of the stove. And fuck, if Shawn mendes looked at me like that and asked if wearing socks and sandals was 'okay?', I probably would schedule him for a cover photo shoot and insist that the combination was the hottest trend of the season.

"Solid ten out of ten," I replied. "Would recommend." Shawn hummed and went back to stirring.

"Knew you were only in it for the food."

"How dare you accuse me of such things?" I gasped.

"I really like your cars as well."

"Damnit," he growled, slamming one hand on the counter top. His brown eyes darted up to lock with mine, mouth pressed into a thin wire to hold back the grin. "And to think I just bought all those airplanes because I was sure you were more of an aviation woman." I shook my head in mock disappointment.