Indian Kitchen Cook

She hoped that he would ask her to type and would notice the swell of her breasts when he leaned over her to watch what she was typing. If he did notice, he never showed it. She knew his attention was on saving the world and not lusting after her. In a way she could understand it, but that didn’t make her disappointment any less.She tried to get his attention by doing little things that he would appreciate. She fixed his coffee and delivered it without him having to ask for it. She knew what he liked to eat every day of the week. When there was a surprise item on the menu that he liked better she knew to get it. She made sure that the office was stocked with the snacks that he usually requested.No matter what she did, it seemed to her that he didn’t notice. At first she thought that it was because of his grief over losing his wife and son. As time went by and his grief never lessened, she began to get worried. Then he started to recover although the signs of recovery were subtle at. A sudden wave of dizziness had her head reeling. The perfect gentleman, Doc Wyatt took the bottle and put his arm around her for support. Aeryn had to fight the urge to snuggle. ‘I’m sorry.’ she said wearily. ‘I’ve been a total bitch since we’ve met, and all you’ve done is help me. I’m Aeryn Salma.’ she said, offering her hand in absurd formality. ‘I know.’ he said, putting down the bottle to shake hers. The hand that held hers was large, with wide palms and long, narrow fingers, the skin textured by years of hard work. He’d removed his hat, the hair beneath was a dark reddish brown cropped short. ‘You’re Doc Wyatt?’ ‘Wyatt to you, drink more water, Aeryn. There’s a bathroom off to your left. You should shower.’ ‘Why? Do I stink?’ she asked, bending to sniff herself. She didn’t, but Wyatt didn’t say as much. He simply pressed the bottle of water to her hand and watched the long line of her throat as she drank. ‘Finish the bottle and then take a shower. I put some aloe vera in there.
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