Page 35 of Piston

Jenny pokes her head out from the bedroom, brows raised in surprise. "You're cooking? Should I be worried?"

I flash her a grin, setting the bags on the counter. "Have a little faith, sweetheart. I've got skills you haven't seen yet."

She laughs, shaking her head as she disappears into the bathroom. "Alright, color me intrigued. But if you burn down the kitchen, you're explaining it to the landlord!"

I chuckle, rolling up my sleeves as I get to work. The familiar motions of cooking settle my nerves, giving me something to focus on besides the churning in my gut. I'm not used to putting myself out there, but for her, I'll do anything.

Before long, the apartment is filled with the aroma of garlic and sizzling shrimp. I set the table just as Jenny emerges, damp hair clinging to her neck, wrapped in one of my oversized t-shirts. Fuck, she looks good enough to eat.

"Wow, Piston, this looks amazing," she says, eyes widening as she takes in the spread. "Shrimp alfredo, Greek salad, garlic bread... I'm impressed!"

"Told you I had skills," I smirk, pulling out her chair. "Dig in, baby. Mi casa es su casa and all that."

We settle into an easy rhythm, the clink of silverware punctuating our conversation. I watch as Jenny takes a bite, her eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

"Oh my god, this is incredible," she moans around a mouthful of pasta. "Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

I shrug, spearing a shrimp with my fork. "Ma insisted all us kids learn our way around the kitchen. Said no son of hers would grow up expecting a woman to wait on him hand and foot."

Jenny smiles, something soft and warm in her eyes. "Your mom sounds like a smart woman. I wish I had half her talent in the kitchen. My attempts usually end up as charcoal briquettes."

"Nah, you've got plenty of other talents," I grin, letting my gaze drag over her curves. "Besides, I like taking care of you for a change."

She ducks her head, a pretty flush staining her cheeks. "Well, I appreciate it. It's been a long time since someone cooked for me like this."

I reach across the table, running my thumb over her knuckles. "Get used to it, darlin'. I plan on doing a lot more of this from now on."

Her hand twists beneath mine, fingers lacing together. "I think I could get on board with that."

We lapse into silence for a bit, savoring the meal and each other's company. But there's something I need to know, a question that's been nagging at me.

"Tell me about your family," I say, leaning back in my chair. "You don't talk about them much."

Jenny sighs, pushing a tomato around her plate. "Not much to tell, really. My dad was in the military - Marines. Did a few tours in the Middle East before I was born."

I nod, understanding dawning. "PTSD?"

"Yeah," she says softly, meeting my gaze. "It was bad when I was growing up. He'd have these episodes, just... check out for days at a time. Mom did her best, but it was hard on all of us."

I reach for her hand again, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry, darlin'. That's a tough row to hoe."

She shrugs, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "It is what it is. I learned to be pretty self-sufficient early on. Had to, with Dad gone half the time and Mom working doubles to keep the lights on."

"Explains a lot about you," I murmur, studying her face. "You're a survivor, Jenny. Strongest damn woman I know."

Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she blinks them back, straightening her spine. "We do what we have to, right? Life keeps moving, whether we're ready or not."

"Ain't that the truth," I agree, rubbing my thumb over her palm. "But you don't have to do it alone anymore, you hear me? I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She nods, a wobbly smile spreading across her face. "I'm starting to get that."

Then her smile turns mischievous, eyes sparkling with humor. "But if you think cooking me one meal gets you off the hook for being an ass, you've got another thing coming, mister."

I bark out a laugh, shaking my head. "Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'. I've got a lot of groveling to do, and I'm just getting started."

She giggles, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Damn straight. Now, what's for dessert?"

I grin, pushing back from the table and stalking towards her. "Oh, I've got a few ideas..."

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