“I suppose it depends who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
“You haven’t talked to him yet?” I pry, trying to see how much Kazuo knows.
“Not yet.”
“Too busy in the shower?” I tease.
“Something like that.” He opens the back door, holding it for me. “Sun’s getting to your skin again, Mei.”
I cut him a glare as I slip past him.
His lips twitch, a smile pulling at them. If I thought Kazuo was handsome before, when he smiles, he’s something else altogether. I’m not sure I’m equipped to deal with this new side of him.
“Everyone out,” he says when we enter the kitchen. They all scatter, leaving Kazuo and me alone once again. I skip over to the giant kitchen island and set Kuzi on top of it.
“Can I have one of these?” I eye one of the cupcakes that’s under a glass lid. “Sachi never kept sweets in the house. She said carbs are the devil. How could she say that when she married my father?” I deadpan.
Kazuo’s lips twitch again.
An excited flutter fills my belly.
My father isn’t the devil per se. I mean I’m pretty sure some would argue that he totally is. I just question if he really loves me. Or does he think I’m a burden he got stuck with? I’m his only heir. My real mother died in childbirth. Father didn’t remarry until I was around eight. I never seen real love between the two of them. They are friendly but it’s just odd to me. Not something I would want. She tried to mother me a few times but was terrible at it.
“Sachi? That's your stepmother, right? I think I’ve met her.”
“If you met her, you’d remember her.”
He lifts the lid for me. Kuzi goes trotting across the counter, inspecting his new space. I expect Kazuo to tell me to put him on the floor, but he doesn’t. I snag the cupcake and peel off the paper.
He shrugs. “I remember thinking she could use a cupcake.”
“Everyone could use a cupcake,” I agree, sinking my teeth into the sugary heaven. I moan. It tastes delicious, but not as good as Kazuo. He stares at me. I lick my lips thinking maybe I have icing on my face or something. “Bite?” I offer.
“I’ll get my bite later,” he says, the intensity in his eyes making my whole body flood with heat. I really hope he’s talking about me. I also hope he gets the bite before he talks to my father. Because after that, he might want nothing to do with me.
5
Kazuo
I drop the udon noodles into the boiling chicken broth and pull out a pan to brown the kiri mochi.
“That already smells good. It reminds me of home.” She pets her kitten and watches me cook.
I can feel her gaze on my back, and for a brief second, I flex. When she gasps, I can’t help my smirk. Part of me says this has to stop. She’s Hideo’s daughter. She’s too young. Too innocent. There are so many reasons I shouldn’t be thinking of her as anything other than a ward for me to look after. But then she kissed me.
Fuck. That kiss. It was so unexpected. Bold. I thought what happened in the shower was just a simple pressure release. But what happened under the arbor? That was something much more.
I add some butter to my pan and drop in the kiri mochi squares to brown them up. “What did you study in school?”
“Umm, well, my school was sort of old-fashioned so I did the usual stuff plus calligraphy and all that.”
“College?” I pour her udon into a bowl and top it with the crispy mochi. Grabbing a small cutting board, I quickly chop her some green onion and thin-sliced radish.
“Wow, you are really good with a knife.” She watches me finish. “Like fluid.”
I slide the bowl in front of her with a set of chopsticks and a spoon. “Eat.”
“Thanks.” She sits, and her kitten trots over and sniffs. “Sorry, Kuzi. You can’t have this. It’s all for me.” She licks her lips.
I try not to stare. “So university?” I ask again.
She blows on the hot soup. “Well, Dad wanted me to do accounting stuff. But numbers and I aren’t on the best of terms. So I tried to do literature instead. He didn’t like that. And to be honest, I didn’t like college.”
“Why not?”
She tries a bite of noodles and mochi. The sound she makes goes right to my cock.
“This is amazing!” She slurps up the noodles, and I have to stifle a laugh at how cute she is when she’s hungry.
“I’m glad you enjoy my cooking. Now, continue. What kind of literature did you want to study?”
Her cheeks turn that cherry blossom pink again as I hand her a napkin. “Well, I like all different sorts of books.”