Page 77 of Rags to Royals

My stupid stomach swoops a little at that.

He lifts a hand to my head and pulls on the ponytail holder that has my hair gathered back. He slides it out of my hair, then runs a big hand through the strands.

I visibly shiver. His hands in my hair do obscene things to my body. Things I probably don’t want my daughter witnessing.

But I can’t seem to make myself step back.

“I do cook.” He runs his hand up to the back of my head again and massages my scalp where the ponytail had been.

Holy shit, that feels good. I let out a long sigh and let my eyes slide shut.

“Though Henry and Jonah are both better than I am. They can make a whole host of things. But we all had to learn. We were all living together and when Saoirse got out of the baby food stage, Fiona told us we couldn’t feed her frozen burritos or take out every night.”

I open my eyes to look up at him. He keeps rubbing my head, smiling at the memory. He told me just last night that I needed to stop underestimating him, and it seems that is going to take me a little longer to learn.

“What is it?” I ask. I don’t care, but I feel the need to say something.

This man with his big hand giving me a scalp massage while his low voice rolls over me, making my skin feel like he’s massaging the rest of me, could serve me peanut butter on crackers and I’d thank him profusely.

“Pork chops and rice,” he says. “Casseroles are my specialty. I love it when you can put everything in one pan. Fewer dishes and you don’t have to worry about getting a bunch of stuff all done at the same time.”

That seems to fit Cian perfectly. He’s competent, but also minimal fuss. I smile up at him. “I agree.”

He pulls his fingers through my hair, then gathers my hair into a looser ponytail, looping the tie around it at the base of my neck. “Who’s Diane?”

“Just a friend.”

“Diane brings us two frozen casseroles every week,” Mariah says.

I shoot Mariah a look. “That’s right. She’s awesome.” That’s all that Cian needs to know about Diane.

Mariah misses my look though because she’s got her head bent over whatever she’s working on. “But Mom doesn’t take help very easily, so she insists on working on Diane’s cars for free.”

“It’s only fair,” I protest. “I don’t have to worry about dinner twice a week because of her. That’s huge.”

“Yeah, except the car that you work on for her doesn’t actually ever need any work,” Mariah goes on.

“You're exaggerating,” I tell her, but I look up at Cian. “Anyway.” I say, trying to change the subject.

“What do you mean it doesn’t need work?” Cian asks Mariah.

“Mom won’t take the casseroles for free. Diane won’t take money. So, Mom said she’d work on Diane’s car for her in exchange. But Diane doesn’t really drive that much. So she doesn’t actually need an oil change every single month. She definitely doesn’t need her tires rotated and her brake pads checked very often. But she still brings it in withsomerequest, because that’s the only way Mom will take the casseroles.” Mariah laughs. She finally lifts her head and the look she gives me is fully affectionate. “And Mom goes along with it. Obviously, she knows it doesn’t need to have all of that stuff done but she lets Diane think she doesn’t realize that. It’s kind of a sweet little game they play.”

I’m touched that Mariah thinks that, but I roll my eyes. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Cian tugs on my ponytail and he subtly tips my head so that I look back up at him. “Sweet witch,” he murmurs.

Heat shivers through my body and I realize I need to step back before I kiss him in front of my daughter and her friend.

And maybe kissing him wouldn’t be the end of the world. It’s pretty clear we like each other. But it wouldn’t be a kiss. It would be aget me naked nowkiss. And that can’t happen in my kitchen.

At least not until later.

“Thank you for cooking,” I say, taking that step back, somehow.

He lets me go, but the look in his eyes clearly tells me that he was thinking about kissing me naked as well.

“Of course.” He glances at the oven. The timer reads ten minutes. “Come see what I got today.” He grasps my hand and starts tugging me toward the dining room.

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