Page 48 of Act of Brotherhood
He held a kitchen towel that Nicolette had purchased for Clara as a gag gift. It said “Kitchen Bitch”—something Clara often called herself because she was the one always left cooking for them.
Garth’s hair was down again, with the smallest of braids sprinkled throughout, as it had been when they’d collided. He was in a darker pair of jeans than he’d been in, and was now wearing a green short-sleeved shirt that matched his eyes and fit him snugly, showing off his amazing body. She could have sworn he’d been in a gray shirt when she’d woken last night.
She inhaled but didn’t catch the smell of cloves, cinnamon, or vanilla. She just smelled whatever he was cooking, and him. Both smelled fantastic. Her body heated at the sight of him there in her kitchen, pulling a cast-iron skillet from the oven.
He glanced over at her and paused, holding the skillet in midair, the burner still lit. He reached out and shut off the radio. A slow smile touched his lips. “You look beautiful.”
She blushed. The man had seen her naked and a simple compliment made her blush.
He set the skillet on a different burner. He then wiped his hands on a towel from the counter before carrying over two plates full of food and setting them on the two-person table. “I wasn’t sure if you like frittatas. I hope so.”
She did laugh at the way he pronounced “frittatas.” It sounded like he was the spokesman for a bra-burning campaign with the sole goal of freeing all ta-tas.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she managed without laughing outright. It was hard. She took a seat at the kitchen table and beamed at the sight before her. “It looks amazing. I’m jealous of your culinary skills. I’m limited to blender things only.”
“I found some sort of gray sludge in the refrigerator. Was that your handiwork?” he asked with a teasing grin.
She nodded. “It is. Well, I can’t take all the credit. My uncle helped me develop it. Normally, I wake up craving a glass. But not this morning. Weird. Did you try any?”
His eyes widened. “No. It smells like paste.”
She’d never heard it described that way before. “It’s not bad.”
He stepped away from the table and came back with two cups of coffee. “Are you sure you can’t call in sick today?”
She touched his forearm. “I couldn’t do that to my kids. We’re having our celebration this morning.” As she thought about the smashed cupcakes, she frowned. “I’m hoping they aren’t too disappointed when I tell them there’s no special treat.”
Garth winked and then tapped her plate. “Eat up. I know what you spent the night doing and how many calories that burned. Get to eating, beauty.”
She put some food on her fork and glanced at him. “Why do you call me that?”
“What? Beauty?”
She nodded.
“You’ve looked in a mirror before, right?” he asked as if that explained everything.
Nicolette ate a bit of the frittata and flavor exploded in her mouth. She’d always thought Clara’s cooking was amazing. This made Garth look like a world-renowned chef. She covered her mouth partially as she spoke. “Ohmygod, this is the best thing ever. I’m so keeping you.”
He grinned. “Funny. I was just thinking about how I plan to keepyou.”
She stilled. As much as she wanted to keep the man, she suspected it wouldn’t be that easy. “You never said where it is you live. I’m guessing it’s not here in Savannah.”
“No,” he said before sipping his coffee. “I’m about eight hours away.”
Her good mood deflated. “That far?”
He nodded. “Finish eating, and I’ll take you to work.”
“You don’t have a car here,” she said.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I handled a few things last night,” he confessed before eating more of his food.
She did the same, wondering where it was the man had been all her life. She also wondered what in the world was wrong with him. Men as good as him weren’t free agents for long. Smart women snatched them up. A sinking thought came over her. “Garth, are you seeing anyone? Like a girlfriend or a wife?”
He sat back fast in his seat. “No! Are you?”
