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“Pretty sure it was you,” she said with a side eye.
He chuckled a deep, sexy rumble. “I think it’s both of us.” He smiled down at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I guess I’ll accept that answer,” she acquiesced and his smile grew lazy.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She actuallywaskind of hungry. They hadn’t eaten when they’d gotten home, had they? They’d just gotten right to business.
“I’m going to use the bathroom and then I’ll make some food for you,” he suggested, his dark eyes liquid pools of endless warmth.
“You’re going to make me food?” she asked, blinking up at him as tears stung the back of her eyes.
He smiled at her like she was being silly, pressed a kiss to her lips, and got out of the bed.
She rolled over and watched him walk to the bathroom and close the door.
After all that and it was the fact that he was going to make food for her that hit that tender spot in between her ribs.
The tear that leaked out was wiped away almost immediately. But not before she understood what it meant.
She was stupid in love with this man. And she’d never be the same again.
ASA
“Oh my God, that smells amazing,” Zara said, entering the kitchen.
He glanced over his shoulder from where he was whisking the eggs and cream together. She was in his t-shirt and nothing else, her hair a wild mess that he’d helped create.
Fuck, she was gorgeous.
She slid her arms around his waist from behind and peeked around his arm at the cast iron skillet on the stovetop. “What are you making?”
“A frittata.” With spinach, peppers, cheese, potatoes, and garlic. He put the bowl of eggs down and turned in her arms. She beamed up at him and he dipped lower to kiss her forehead. He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her cheek against his bare chest.
After a moment there, she let go and opened the fridge. “Do you want some juice?” she asked, taking the container of orange-pineapple juice out.
He murmured an affirmative and watched her from the corner of his eye as she moved around the kitchen getting glasses and plates out.
She sat down on one of the stools on the opposite side of the island and propped her elbow on the counter, her chin in her palm.
“I like this,” she said, a dreamy smile on her lips.
“What? Me making you food?” he asked, shooting her a grin over his shoulder.
“Well, that too. But I meant you walking around in your boxers.” She whistled softly. “Look at that ass.”
His neck heated and he chuckled while stirring the veggies. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I just think you underestimate how hot you are. Remember that day I hosed you off in Nikki’s backyard?”
“How could I forget?” The day she’d come crashing back into his life. Why had he resisted her pull so much? All of his reasons seemed so trivial now.
“I’ve never gotten that booty out of my mind. It’s been a massive distraction.”
He wiggled said booty in her direction and smiled when she giggled.
He poured the eggs into the pan and let them set before sticking the frittata in the oven to finish.
