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When You're Not Looking	By : Embracer Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 13084 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Hunger Games. It all belongs to Suzanne Collins. This is just for fun, not money.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5
Katniss POV
As I push the door open, a bell chimes. Too late to turn back now!
I look around and notice a smiling ginger behind the counter. He’s just finished with a customer who walks past me exiting the store. He looks to me and asks if he can help me.
I swallow hard, and walk toward the counter. I can’t help but notice the amazing mixture of aromas floating around this place from all the beautiful edible delicacies on display. I reach the smiling man, his name tag says Darius. “Hi, I’m looking for Pee…Mr. Mellark?”
His smile remains, “He’s in the back. I’ll get him for you.”
While I wait, I wander around the shop looking at all the mouth-watering and visually stunning creations. Does he do all this stuff? Nah, probably a staff of 50 to help. I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps behind me. I turn and see him there. A broad smile on his face and sparkling eyes. He’s got an apron on that’s dusted with flour and other bits and pieces. His white t-shirt under the apron fits snug, and displays his muscular build. He looks like he just took a bath in flour, but tasty.
He approaches me, and offers me his hand. I comply, and he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles sending a shiver through my spine. It’s such a cheesy old-school gesture, but somehow adorably fitting coming from him. He places his other hand over my just-kissed knuckles almost as if to glue the kiss in place. He tells me, “I’m glad you made it. You look beautiful!”
I’m sure my cheeks are red, “Thanks. It’s a really nice place.”
He puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me, “Come, let me show you around.” He walks me through the storefront, and the attached café, and then to the back. There are so many mixers, utensils, ovens, and all kinds of other equipment that I’ve never seen. The other two employees in the back are closing things down. He’s very excited as he’s giving the tour.
He tells me about how the area of the storefront used to be the entire bakery before he had saved enough to buy the whole building and renovate it. He added the café and all the equipment is state of the art. He’s very animated when he shows me how the mixer works. Eventually, the other employees have gone home and the store is closed. It’s just the two of us now.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“I’ve been salivating since I walked in here,” even though he kept pinching samples of things off for me during the tour. It just made me hungrier.
“Let me make you something. What would you like?” I have no way of answering. I’m not sure what he wants or can make. He sees my dilemma, “How about pasta? Do you like fettucini alfredo?”
I nod my head enthusiastically, “I do, but only if I get to help. I’m not a great cook, but I think I can manage noodles.”
Apparently, I was wrong since he wants to make the noodles from scratch. I did get to wear an apron and help with the pasta machine where I messed up two batches before I got it right. He just laughed at me and threatened that we may starve if he didn’t help me. He worked on the sauce while I worked on cutting the noodles the way he showed me. I keep catching him watching me and smiling. I’m sure my face is scrunched in concentration.
When I notice, I can’t help but smile at him. He’s adorable with flour smudged on his face. I can’t help but watch his strong arms delicately stirring the temperamental sauce. He’s got a pot of water boiling on the stove next to him for the noodles. As I finish cutting them, I take them over to him and we put them in the water together. We’re so close, our arms keeps skimming each others. I don’t know if he feels the same brush of electricity as I do, but I hope so. I’ve never felt anything like it.
I’m wondering about that when he puts his hand over mine on the handle of the spoon, helping me to keep stirring the noodles. Once we’ve got all the noodles in the pot, and the sauce is cut down. He tells me, “We’ve got about 10 minutes before dinner is ready. I’ll set the timer, just to be safe.”
I’m leaning against the counter next to the stove. He comes in front of me. I grab the kitchen towel from the counter, “you’ve got some flour right above your eye. Do you mind?” I ask holding up the towel. He shrugs. I wipe away the flour from his forehead using the towel. Then, I put the towel down and use my fingers to gently wipe away the flour on his cheek. His hand comes up and covers mine on his cheek. He leans into my hand. He’s looking at me, and our eyes lock. I hadn’t noticed just how close our bodies were. I can’t look away. His gaze is directed at parts of me that others can’t reach. Before I know what I’m doing, I close the distance between us and allow our lips to touch.
It’s tender and sweet, but sending sparks to the rest of my body. He breaks the innocent kiss, and searches my eyes for something…I’m not sure. I guess he finds what he’s looking for, because both his hands come up and take my face into them and his lips meet mine again. This kiss is…more…simply more. It’s still sweet, and tender, but it feels like there’s so much more underneath. We move together, our mouths and hands tentatively exploring the other. His left hand is still on my cheek, while his right hand has found its way to the small of my back and he’s pulling me closer. My hands have found their new homes as well. One is grasping in his hair, and the other is looped under his arm stroking and grabbing at his muscular back.
Our tongues dance around each other as if they’ve known each other all along. All of these sensations flow through my body with both exciting newness and the warmth of familiarity. It’s as if his mouth was intended for mine. We’re both pulling our bodies closer, but it’s not enough. Desire has taken over, and we’re becoming hungrier, more passionate. Both of his hands go down my sides to my waist. He lifts me with ease up onto the counter. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him to me again so our lips and bodies connect again. I can feel his excitement against mine. My legs pull him tighter on instinct. He emits a deep groan at the friction, and I bite softly into his bottom lip and sucking on it before releasing it.
His hands have made their way to the sides of my upper thighs and he’s kneading them like dough. Both of my hands are wound tightly in his luscious hair. We’re two animals working only on primal instinct now.
DING!
We break apart at the sound of the timer going off. Both of us out of breath, our foreheads pressed together for support. Trying to locate our self-control, which was completely lost to us a moment ago. I finally risk opening my eyes to look at him. Almost in synch we catch each other’s eyes, and smile. Our smiles turn into giggles. Our foreheads separate and he’s eased back from me a few millimeters. He kisses me quickly on the lips once more and then on my forehead before he speaks.
“I think we should eat something.” He doesn’t move yet, “That was…wow…I…”
“Amazing…and unexpected…and not like me at all!” I manage while straightening my disheveled dress.
He leans in one final time and pecks me on the cheek, before turning his half-attention to preparing our plates of pasta. I grab two Arizona Teas from the cooler and sit down at the small café table we’d set earlier. We eat and talk and grin throughout the meal. It’s delicious.
He tells me all about how his family started the original bakery. His dad and how he taught him everything he could before he passed. He was sad telling me how he used the money his father left him to enlarge the bakery and make it what he and his dad always wished for. I couldn’t believe he was telling me all of this. His overbearing, abusive mother who had hurt him so many times that at age 13 he ran away to live with a relative for 2 years until his dad finally divorced her. He hasn’t seen her since, and doesn’t care to. His brothers who have lived in various states. One is in the military, and the other is a salesman for a software company.
I told him about my family, opening up more about this with him than I have with anyone. I told him about my father and how he taught me to garden, and hunt, shoot a bow and a gun. I spoke for the first time about my father’s accident and how it tore my world apart. I told him about my mom’s passing after a long term depression. I told him all about Prim and how she is the one thing that makes my life worth living. I would do anything for her. I even tell him about her despicable cat, Buttercup, whom I hate. I made him laugh telling him about what I saw with Haymitch and Effie earlier today.
We talked like this for hours. We wound up in his office after clearing the dishes together. His office is huge, but looks more like a small apartment rather than a business area. There’s a couple of couches and chairs, a table, refrigerator, a large desk, tv, a dresser, a closet. There’s also a lot of art hanging haphazardly around the room. I walk around looking at it all. I ask about the art and he tells me it’s just something he does for fun.
He’s really good and I tell him so. He invites me to sit on the couch. He’s made us each a cup of hot tea while I was snooping. I join him, and he automatically puts his arm around me. It’s not done in a suggestive way, but more for comfort and closeness, so I don’t mind. I snuggle into the crook of his shoulder with my feet curled up under me. We both sip on our tea in silence for a few minutes.
I can feel him tensing a bit, but I don’t say anything. I’ll wait for him to say what he’s thinking. I have a feeling it’s not good whatever it is. I probably don’t want to hear it anyway. Another couple of tense moments and sips of tea, and he speaks.
“Katniss, about what happened earlier…that’s not why I invited you here. I mean, I’m very attracted to you, but that’s not what…I…um…was expecting or anything like that.”
All I can say is, “Oh?” I’m not sure what I’m thinking right now, but as usual my mind always goes to the worst case scenario.
“I just don’t want you to think that’s all I’m looking for. It’s not who I am.” He’s looking at me, imploring me to respond.
I ponder for a moment, “Who are you then?”
He smirks at my question, but answers, “I’m a guy who is looking for someone that I can connect with on a lot of levels, not just sexually. If that part happens to come with the package, that’s fine, but it’s not what’s important to me.” He hesitates as if there’s more. “I guess what I’m saying is that the dinner and entertainment portion of tonight’s activities are not part of the usual Bakery Tour.”
I can’t help but laugh, and decide to push a little myself, “How many Bakery Tours have you given?” I’m hoping he reads my implication.
I see him narrow his eyes slightly, and the corners of his mouth turn up slightly as if he’s figured out what I was really asking. “Oh, hundreds and hundreds.” He gives me a wink, but I’m scowling. “We give tours to school kids on a weekly basis. Every now and then the students from the Cullinary Institute will come for a class tour.” He pauses, then adds, “I’ve never had a date in the bakery before, Katniss.”
He tips my chin toward him with his index finger, so he can see my eyes. I look at him searching for validity in his words. Should I trust him? I’m not sure. My gut tells me I should, but my heads screams in protest. He leans in and kisses me gently. I decide that he has earned at least temporary trust, but intend to keep some of my guard up emotionally.
I break apart from the sweet kiss this time, and look him in the eye, “Good!” He laughs and kisses me again. We share a few more tame kisses before we both notice that it’s gotten very late. He walks me to the door after packing a box of pastries for me to share with Prim and the girls at work. He walks me to my car. I push the remote button to unlock the car, and place the pastry box on the seat before turning back to him.
“Thank you for…everything. I really enjoyed it.” I say while playing with the collar of his t-shirt.
He pulls me in for an embrace, holding me tightly. “I want to see you again.”
I smile into his chest, “Me, too. Just call me tomorrow.” I look up at him, he nods his agreement. I snake my hands up through his hair and pull him down to meet my lips once more. We share a not-so-tame kiss of longing. When we break away, he kisses the tip of my nose and helps me into the car. He waves as I pull away.
I’m sad that the night is over, but I need some space to think about this. Everything happened so fast. I just met him today, we’ve had our first date, and our first few make-out sessions, we’ve shared intimate historical details, and we’re seeing each other again. It’s like a month’s worth of dating rolled into 24-hours.
I think I’ll wait until tomorrow to worry about this and just enjoy it tonight. All I know at this moment is…Wow, that was one hell of a night!
- 4
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- 6
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When You're Not Looking