In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

Dark eyes cut to the ceiling as if he was pondering the question, and then he said, “Nope. It’s your turn to cook for me.”

That was a bold statement. “I’m cooking?”

“I’ve cooked twice already.”

“I helped with breakfast,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but in my kitchen on my dish. I want to see what you can cook up on your own.”

She was trying to cook up something that had nothing to do with the kitchen. Rising on her toes, she brushed her lips across his. “Any requests?”

He kissed her back and said, “Surprise me.”

That she could do.

Adding a purr to her voice, Lauren whispered, “Yes, Chef,” and kissed him once more, enjoying the way his arms tightened when their tongues met. He was warm and solid and exactly what she needed to end her sexual drought.

When her hands slid up his chest, Nick caught them and pulled away. “You have to go to work, remember?”

Lauren checked the clock to see they had nearly forty minutes. “We could be quick.”

Slowly shaking his head, he put more space between them. “When I get you into bed, I plan to take my time.”

How was she supposed to argue with that?

Accepting the rain check, she returned to the table to retrieve her phone. “Tomorrow then. How about seven?” She needed time to pick up the ingredients and have a meal ready before he got there. She would also need to shower and take care of other necessities if this dinner was ending the way she hoped.

“Seven works for me.”

Crossing the living room, she said, “Be prepared for an amazing meal.”

Nick followed her to the door. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Before leaving, she tried one more time. “Are you sure we don’t have time—”

“I’m sure. Go home before I change my mind and your cooks wonder where their fearless leader is.”

Why hadn’t she picked a noon start time?

“Fine, but this better be worth the wait.”

She was nearly over the threshold when Nick pulled her back and kissed her senseless against his front door. By the time he broke contact, his hands still warm on her heated cheeks, Lauren was a wilting mess.

“I guarantee it,” he whispered against her temple.

Still dazed, she could do little more than nod as he stepped back and let her leave. Whatever she decided to cook needed to be good if it was going to be a warm-up for more of that.

13

Nick stood on the porch of Lauren’s cottage, feeling like a teenager picking up his crush for their first date. For him, it might as well have been exactly that. He hadn’t let himself even consider the idea of pursuing a relationship in fifteen years. Whenever he’d felt himself getting attached, he’d cut the other person loose. Not that he left a string of broken hearts in his wake.

He’d always been up front with women, and he gravitated toward the ones who felt the same way he did. No strings. Nothing serious. Lauren fell into that category so he was probably setting himself up for disappointment, but Nick wasn’t looking to walk down the aisle anytime soon.

Just entertaining the idea was giving him cold sweats, yet made him excited for the future in a way he hadn’t allowed himself in a long time. Would Lauren consider changing the stakes? Nick didn’t know her well enough to guess. But she had let him see her vulnerable, which was a start.

Lauren needed someone who could show her what she truly deserved, and Nick needed practice being needed. If nothing else, they might both come out of this with more than when they went in.

“Knock, knock,” he called through the old-fashioned screen door. Leaning close, he caught the smell of roasted garlic and his mouth watered. “Hello?”

“I’m here,” she said, shuffling into the living room and pushing the door open. “Come tell me if this puree needs more salt.”

Lauren strolled back into the kitchen, but Nick remained just inside the door, struck dumb by the gorgeous creature who’d just greeted him. The jeans hugged her curves like a second skin, and the loose white button-down was thin enough to reveal the black tank beneath. Her hair was down and…fluffier. Nick couldn’t think of another word to describe it. She looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed after doing more than sleeping.

All he could think was that he wanted to be the reason she looked that way.

“Nick?” she said, returning to the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “Are you coming?”

His inner twelve-year-old had a response to that but Nick managed to keep him quiet.

“I am.”

He joined her in the kitchen and an overload of delicious smells assailed him. Garlic, fennel, and red wine, plus a few others he couldn’t pin down. When Nick stepped up behind her at the counter, intending to drop a kiss on her neck, Lauren spun with a spoon in her hand.

“Taste this.”

Before he could react, the puree hit his tongue. “Potato and…?”

“Celery root,” she replied. “Does it need more salt? I can’t tell. I tasted so many different dishes today that my taste buds are on overload.”

“No, it’s just right.” Where did she find celery root at this time of year? “How did you—”

A timer went off and Lauren slid away to reach for a red-and-white oven mitt. “Perfect timing,” she said, pulling a pan of Brussels sprouts from the oven. She sniffed deeply over the pan before setting it on a tea towel. “I hope you like garlic because it’s my favorite thing ever and I like a lot of it on my food.”

You could never have too much garlic.

“I’m good with that.”

Lauren grabbed two tall glasses. “This place didn’t come with wineglasses so I hope this works.”

He wasn’t picky about his glassware. “They’ll be fine.”

“Great.” She shoved the glasses into his hands. “Then put these on the table and grab some silverware from that last drawer over there. I’ll get this dished up and be right in.”

If Nick didn’t know