Page 147 of Back in the Saddle

“You found truffle butter,” he said as I closed the door behind me.

“I totally did,” I replied.

I tossed my bag on the couch and went to him.

He twisted from the counter, but not fully, though he did fully circle me with his arm, pull me up against his side and drop down to give me a quick kiss.

Oh yeah.

Official.

I’d go through that hoopla.

When he lifted away, he said, “I know you wanted to cook, but I haven’t eaten since lunch, so I got started.”

Since I hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it was after seven, I was glad he got a head start.

I looked down at my cutting board that had some chopped chives and a bunch of sliced mushrooms on it.

I returned my gaze to him. “You know I’m already good at the slicing and chopping parts. I want to get into the meaty stuff.”

“Then hurry, honey, your man is hungry.”

“Can you wait two point five minutes for me to change clothes?”

“Absolutely.”

I smiled, rolled up for my own lip touch then dashed to my room to switch out from the clothes I worked in all day to a pair of black wide-leg lounge pants with a white racing stripe down the side and a tight white tank. That accomplished, I pulled my long hair up into a messy bun.

When I came back out, Eric sent a glance my way, almost turned back to the mushrooms but instead did a double take.

Yeah, I had nice arms, a nice ass, and I rocked a lounge outfit.

But I especially rocked a tank.

Seemed someone was feeling his have-sex-for-the-first-time-with-your-new-hot-chick vibe.

I smirked.

“If you ever call me a tease again, I’m shooting you,” he muttered to mushrooms.

I smirked harder.

Then I clapped my hands and said, “Let’s get this puppy going.”

I moved to the Barefoot Contessa cookbook I’d bought at the bookstore a couple of days ago to start my new hobby. It was where I left it, on the kitchen counter, opened to the recipe.

And that was when I saw the box with a flier resting on top of it, sitting on the counter next to the cookbook.

“Did you grab my packages from downstairs?” I asked.

“No. All of that was on your mat at your door. I just brought it in.”

That was weird.

Was our postal chick delivering right to the door now?

“I didn’t order anything. Can you hold another minute while I look at this?” I requested.

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