Page 110 of Halo

“Well, you're the one giving a free show.”

“Hrm.” I smirk. “I seem to remember you giving me a pretty spectacular view yourself last night.”

Her cheeks burn red as she reaches for her coffee—then she reaches again because she completely missed it the first time. With her mug finally in hand, she slinks out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of laughter behind.

Chapter 26

Leah

Can someone have an orgasm solely from taste bud stimulation? Because if so, Nicholas Crawford is almost three for three. Somehow this man took my sad little cracked eggs, a few basic kitchen staples, and a leftover BLT sandwich, and made what is quite possibly the most epic breakfast of my entire life—even pre-chemo.

Taking another bite, my eyes drift shut as an involuntary moan escapes.

Nick chuckles. “I'm guessing you're liking your breakfast tacos?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I slap a hand over my mouth and continue chewing around my embarrassingly full bite while. I nod. “Love,” I mumble before swallowing. “These are amazing. Where did these tortillas come from?”

“Here. This will kick it up a notch.” He passes me a bowl of homemade salsa. Where he found the ingredients for this, I'll never know.

I hesitate. “That's okay. This is perfect the way it is.”

He licks the side of his thumb. “You don't like salsa?”

“Oh, no. I love salsa. It's just …” I nervously chuckle. “Well, spicy food doesn't really like me.”

“But wait. You like spicy ketchup.”

I snort. “That's not spicy. I'm talking actual heat.”

He considers me a moment before understanding settles over his face. “Is it—” he lowers his voice—“is it because of your endo?”

I nod, wiping my mouth.

“Does it make … um … things worse?” he asks.

“Okay, doc.” I point my taco at him. “I'd rather not discuss that over breakfast.” I pause. “Actually, let's just never discuss it. Ever.”

He laughs. “Oh, come on. Everybody p—”

“Don't. You. Dare.” I recoil dramatically, nearly fumbling my taco. “Yes, everyone does that, but as far as you and I are concerned, no, I don't.”

“Ah, so you're one of those women, trying to be a lady—”

“No. I'm a woman with severe tummy issues who's been embarrassed enough. I'd still like you to find me attractive.”

“That's not a problem, darlin’.” He flashes a crooked smile. “Okay, then, I have a confession … I may have stolen the onions and peppers from the leftover Chinese, added a few spices, and called it homemade salsa.” We both laugh as he nudges the bowl over. “It's really not that spicy, but it's phenomenal. Try just a dab. And if you shit yourself—”

“Nick!”

“What?” He shrugs. “I'll take care of you.”

“Gosh, no.” I snicker. “I think I've embarrassed myself enough for one date.”

He quietly shakes his head before reaching out and grabbing my plate. He scoops a bit of the salsa onto my taco before handing it back to me. “The only embarrassing thing happening here is you refusing my salsa.”

“Next time?” I chuckle humorlessly. “Are silent, fidgeting with her napkin.

Placing my empty plate on the coffee table, I slink back onto the couch, crossing my ankle over my knee. “Can we talk about last night?”