Page 26 of Sincerely Not Yours

Harris handed her a glass. “I’m sorry. He’s missing out on having an amazing person in his life.”

She gave him a grin. “Thank you. He is. But, in moving here and trying to connect with him, I got to meet my Nonna, and she embraced me and my sister with open arms. She’s amazing and I’m grateful to have her in my life. We actually live in the same apartment building. I see her just about every day. She loves my friends, too, and spoils us all with her cooking. I’m blessed to have her in my life.”

“She sounds like a gem.” Harris raised his glass. “Cheers to Nonna?”

Gigi brightened. She clinked his glass. “Cheers to Nonna.”

They both sipped, keeping steady eye contact over the thin glass rims.

Lowering her glass, Gigi smacked her lips together. Then she ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. “That is delish!”

Harris’s pulse quickened. He almost forgot he was drinking wine. “I’m glad you like it.”

Gigi took another sip before setting her glass on the island. “Okay, let’s make some soup.” She put herself in front of the cutting board and picked up a carrot.

“What else can I get you?” Harris asked, as Gigi began peeling the vegetable.

“Do you have salt?” Her brow quirked at this. “Because I peeked in your fridge and I’m kind of amazed you even survive. Do you live on sparkling water and beef jerky sticks?”

“I’m a take-out afficionado,” he countered. “But, yes, I have salt. I’m not a heathen.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re not a heathen.” She winked, and he grinned. “I need salt, two large pots, a blender, and a cheese grater.”

As Gigi prepped the vegetables and Rudy pranced through the kitchen, Harris gathered her list. At her instruction, he also added water and chicken bouillon to one pot and set it on the stove, turning the gas burner to medium heat. By the time he was done, she’d chopped the carrots, garlic, and onion. Next, she took hold of the celery, slicing it with the gusto of a Michelin Star chef.

Harris leaned against the counter, watching her in awe. “I’d take off my finger if I tried to chop that fast.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It just takes practice.”

“I don’t know. That looks like talent to me.” Harris leaned in over the island to watch Gigi maneuver the knife with precision. Her easy movements nearly hypnotized him.

“Here, let me show you,” she said, reaching for him.

Before he knew it, Gigi had tugged him close. She placed the knife in his hand and slid her delicate fingers over his. As she did, Harris molded his body around her, angling himself to watch over her shoulder. The warmth of her touch sent a sizzle down his spine, and Harris focused hard, reminding himself that he had hold of a sharp blade.

Keep yourself in check.Harris repeated the warning in his head, but his body was screaming the opposite.

“Put the tip of the knife on the board and move the blade up and down, using the tip as a lever.” Gigi guided Harris’s hand, and they completed a few slices together. “Always cut using thecenter of your blade.” They chopped a few more times, her sweet, sugar-cookie scent dislodging every thought from his brain. “See, it’s so easy. You got this.” Gigi turned her head, smiling proudly and placing her lips just inches from his. Their gazes locked and Harris’s heart lurched, like it wanted to jump out of his chest and join the veggies on the cutting board.

Without thinking, his hand moved to her waist, to ground himself. At his touch, Gigi’s blush lips parted, as if she were inviting him to kiss her. In that instant, Harris knew he was a goner. He was being drawn to her like a magnet.

“You got this,” she repeated, barely over a whisper, and with her next breath, Harris swore she leaned into him. He was exercising excessive discipline to keep from closing the distance, which felt like an inch and a mile at the same time. Every fiber of his being was screaming to give into temptation, to let go of all the reasons he shouldn’t, and just kiss her.

Chapter Eleven

Gigi couldn’t pinpoint what spurred her decision to pull Harris close—there were too many reasons. Maybe it was his genuine interest in what made her tick. Or his caring nature that surfaced in the form of chicken-salad croissants and saving kittens. Perhaps it was how he always seemed to catch her whenever she stumbled. Or maybe it was simply the idea of being wrapped up in his strong arms and intoxicating scent.

All Gigi knew was that she couldn’t resist any longer. He’d shown her the real Harris—the man behind his stern exterior. And she wanted that man to kiss her.

Staring into his sea-glass eyes, catching the blues and greens that melded together, she was certain his appreciative gaze held the same unmet desire that crackled through her. Her body temperature was rising at record speed. Soon she’d need to fan herself.

But instead of leaning in and instigating her fantasy, Harris did the opposite. He grimaced and took a step back. The warmth of his hand disappeared from her waist, and disappointment washed over her in a wave, mingling with embarrassment.

“I—” she started, putting a hand on the counter to stabilize herself. She wanted to explain away the last few seconds, but Harris didn’t let her backpedal.

He crouched down quickly, capturing a rambunctious Rudy—who was climbing up Harris’s pant leg like Spiderman. “Ouch!” Harris gently peeled the kitten from his leg and held him up between the two of them. His orange ears flattened as though his evil plan was ruined.

Oh. The kitten.The grimace wasn’t meant for her.Thank God.

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