Page 97 of The Golden Goalie

I wave him off. “I want to contribute. I’m not a great cook, but I can bake. What do you have to bake with?”

“Probably not a lot but help yourself to my pantry.”

“I will; thank you.” I look over in his pantry and take quick note of what he’s got to work with. I start taking out ingredients—oats, peanut butter, pecans, honey, cranberries. I start carrying them to the counter.

“What are you making?” he asks curiously.

“Breakfast cookies.”

“Breakfast cookies?” he asks with a grin. “Is that just cookies you eat for breakfast?”

“No, Smartmouth. They’re actually breakfast cookies because of the ingredients they have in them.”

“Well, have at it,” he says, moving out of the way. I start looking in his cabinets. “What do you need?”

“A big mixing bowl.” He pulls one down for me. I look around again. “What else, Love?” I smile to myself at the endearment. “Do you have a speaker for music?” When he gives me a funny look, I grin. “I need motivation music. I always listen to music when I bake.”

“On it.”

Within minutes, he’s got music cranking through an in-house speaker system. “Wow, fancy. I approve.” He gives me his sexy smirk, and I get to work.

I’m not sure when I’ve had a better morning. Working in the kitchen next to Rico is like everything I always wanted but didn’t know. By the time we sit down to eat, my stomach hurts from all the laughing I’ve done. I take a fresh batch of breakfast cookies out of the oven and pull one off once it’s cool enough to touch. “Here,” I turn to Rico. “Try this.” He leans forward and takes a huge bite. I stare at him. “Were you trying to eat it all in one bite?” He shrugs, and then his eyes widen; and he eats the whole rest of the thing in one bite.

“Those are amazing. What’s in those?” I smile, feeling pride as I start listing all the ingredients. He turns around and snags another one off the tray. “Do me a favor.”

“What?” I ask, curious.

“Don’t tell my teammates about these.”

“Why?”

“Because they would demolish these. We can actually eat these without feeling too guilty, and they would plow throughthese.” I make a mental note to make a big batch sometime when I have a chance. He groans. “You’re totally going to make some for them, aren’t you?”

“You just gave me the idea,” I defend.

He snags me around the waist and pulls me close. “Yeah, but you made these forme.”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?” I scold teasingly.

“Nope.” He tugs me closer and puts his hands on my hips, something I’m learning he loves to do. “There are some things I don’t share.” His voice is low and serious.

“Whoa, that just took a dark turn. Are we still talking about the cookies?” I ask.

“What were we talking about?” he asks right before his lips descend on mine. I sigh against his lips. He takes full advantage and deepens the kiss. He uses one hand to pull me closer, while the other pulls on my hair to change the angle of our kiss. He bites me lightly on the lip, and I give him what he wants. He groans when our tongues touch, and I feel myself lose touch with reality awhile. When he pulls back, it takes every ounce of my self-control not to pull him back to me. “I knew you would be the death of me.” His voice is hoarse. “I’m never going to get anything done again.” I laugh; I can’t help it. He smiles, and it’s so devastatingly handsome. “Come on; let’s eat before the food is cold.” When we sit at the table, he pulls my chair so it’s close to his.

“When’s your next game?” I ask.

“Tomorrow night.”

“Is it home?”

He sits back in his chair. “It is.”

I nod. “I’ll see if I can get a ticket.”

“Don’t get a ticket; Chloe can get one for you. As many games as you want to come to, you’ll always have a ticket. I can get itnext to Bri and Stephanie if you want.” He watches me carefully like I’m going to bolt.

“Okay.”

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