**Another challenge. This is an immense amount of fun. Enjoy**
His heart had been in the right place. With Jonah working long hours this week, and coming home every night too exhausted to do much more than to eat a sandwich and fall into bed, Amos thought he could do something nice for his husband. Jonah’s favorite treat was vanilla ice cream smothered in butterscotch sauce, and while he’d settle for the store bought syrup in a bottle, Amos knew the real thing really got Jonah’s motor revving. Which was a win-win for Amos. Jonah would get a pick-me-up, feel good treat, and Amos would get gratitude sex. And gratitude sex was high on the list of Amos’s favorite kinds of sex.
The recipe had seemed simply enough. Butter, brown sugar, heavy cream, vanilla and salt. Throw it all in a saucepan and cook until it was butterscotch-y goodness. Amos was no great cook, but he thought even he could handle that. He’d been wrong.
Very, very wrong.
Amos read the directions four times before he began. He got out all the ingredients, measured very carefully, and then read the recipe again. When he felt confident he had everything down pat, he took out Jonah’s best stainless steel sauce pan and set it on the stove. With a deep breath, and another quick glance at the instructions, Amos began. Joy and satisfaction started bubbling up, along with the butter and sugar in the pan.
One moment’s inattention had ruined it all.
He only looked away for a second. He swore that’s all it was. His cell phone chimed with a text alert from his best friend. She’d sent a video of her kitten playing with a stuffed toy. Amos smiled and laughed, watching the tiny black ball of fur attacking the lobster that was at least as big as she was. And when he turned back to the stove, what had once been a simmering molten lava of sugar and butter was now a sticky, black mess.
Amos groaned, and silently berated himself. He knew he had to pay attention to the sauce. The instructions had made that very clear. He quickly shut off the heat and moved the pan into the sink. He’d have to clean it and start over. He filled the pan with hot as he could stand water and a copious dollop of soap. A great deal of the mess washed away, but there was a coating on the pan that would not scrub clean. Amos added more soap and rubbed harder.
Dammit all to hell. Amos had ruined Jonah’s best pan.
The front door opened and closed, and Amos bit back a moan as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“Babe?” Jonah’s deep voice called out.
Amos started to panic. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t come in here!” His voice was slightly hysterical.
Of course, that brought Jonah running. He was at Amos’s side within seconds, worry all over his beautiful face. “What happened?”
Amos shook his head. “I was making you butterscotch.”
Jonah frowned for a moment. Then understanding lit his eyes. “You got distracted, huh?”
Amos nodded miserably. “Your pan is ruined, and I’m sorry. I was trying to do something nice.”
Jonah sighed, but he was clearly trying to keep his amusement in check. He nudged Amos to the side, opened the door to the under sink cabinet, and retrieved something from a yellow box. With a flourish, he handed over a Brillo pad. “It’s not ruined.”
Amos took the steel wool, got it wet, and started working on the black spots. With a little elbow grease, they came clean. Amos blew out a relieved breath and attacked the pot with renewed vigor.
Jonah’s arms snaked around his waist and he snugged his front up to Amos’s back. Jonah’s lips were at the perfect height to kiss the back of Amos’s neck. For just a second, Amos allowed himself to be distracted by the soft, butterfly kisses on his skin. Then he took a swipe at one of Jonah’s hands with the Brillo pad. He had work to do.
Jonah laughed, a carefree sound Amos hadn’t heard in too long. Amos turned his head, stole a proper kiss, then nudge Jonah with his hip.
“Go get changed. I’m going to get it right this time, and you’ll have perfect butterscotch sauce to go on your ice cream.”
Jonah took a deliberate step back while loosening his tie. “That’s not where I want to put my butterscotch.”
Amos’s brow crinkled. “Then where?”
Jonah gave a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Amos swallowed hard, turned back to the sink, and started scrubbing harder. He had serious motivation now.