Page 78 of Cruel Debts
I did, but I wouldn't let him know that.
"Here, hold the spatula for me," he demanded, stepping back so he could put it in my hand and shove me in front of the skillet. I stood there like an idiot, staring at the warming oil in the bottom of the pan, nothing in my head except that I was almost one hundred percent sure I didn't ever belong in front of a stove—now or in the future.
A homebody, I was not. A cook, I definitely wasn't.
You'd better marry someone rich enough to pay for a full house staff, so your shortcomings don't shine through.
Daddy had always been so realistic about my prospects for the future. I wasn't Keehn. I wasn't special. So he hadn't bothered to try. And if mother failed in teaching me how to be awoman, well, that was on her, and in no way a reflection of his own parenting.
He made it clear that my only option was marriage, preferably one that benefitted the whole family.
"Okay, we're going to put the sliced chicken in the pan first, after we season it." He waited until I was watching before dusting the chicken I'd already cut with a little bit of the basics. I made a mental note to cut my salt in half next time I attempted to cook.
"Season it, then cook it, right."
The chicken slid off the cutting board in his hand and right into the hot oil in the pan, and the sizzling it made was almost enough to have me cowering. Oil popped, bubbles rose to the surface, and the smell of cooking meat permeated the air.
I eyed the concoction with distrust. "Are you sure it's not going to burn the house down?"
"It won't, if you don't overfill it. Now, come here." His arms opened, and he gestured to the stove, blocking me in with his body against the back of mine. "Take your spatula and stir it around, let the oil coat it, let it cook on both sides."
I flipped the first piece and nearly got the oil on us, too. "Shit, that was close?—"
"Hold still, woman," he growled, irritation lacing his words as his arms moved alongside mine, his hands covering my smaller one on the handle of the spatula. "Look, when you flip it, don't slap it down like that in the grease. It'll burn you, and grease burns suck." His wrist moved both our hands, and I watched in amazement as he shifted the chicken over and turned it on its head, gently, letting the meat slide from the surface instead of flipping it like an angry pancake. "See? No splash."
All I could see was that Hawke was very, very close to my neck, and I wanted very, very much for him to put his lips on it. Or to lean over me, and let his whole body ride up against mine.
Hawke might hate me, and I might pretend to hate him, but god, everyone knew the best sex was when you fucked like you hated each other.
Sex with Hawke would be explosive. Hot. Intense.
Raw.
"Earth to Tee-Bird. Wake up, unless your plan is to kill us both by burning to death on the stove."
I returned to my senses and turned my attention to the skillet. "The chicken's cooking pretty well. What's next?"
Hawke's smile bled into his words. "Now, we add the veggies, and some sauce. And we turn the heat down and wait."
"Turn the heat down?" Why would you turn the heat down on the food if the goal was to cook it? "What does that do?"
Hawke's eyes were a window to his soul. And right now, his soul looked very much like it was tortured and trying desperately not to run out the door in the other direction, far away from me and my stupidity. "Because if the pan is too hot, it burns the food. You need it at a lower heat for a little longer, so it can cook all the way through and still be tasty."
Duh, Trinity. You've seen Keehn do this a million times. "I knew that."
Hawke rolled his eyes and laughed, using the spatula to stir the food. "Of course you did, Tee-Bird."
There was that nickname again, too. The one he hadn't called me since college. Well, since college orientation, at least.
I didn't want this to end, but I couldn't get in too deep. I just had to remember this was temporary, and I'd be okay when it came time to leave. This was only the calm before the storm. Men like Asher, Hawke, and Liam were great for a little while, and then they weren't, and the two sides were like night and day.
It wasn't a good idea to get attached.
This was never meant to be forever, anyhow.
THIRTY-THREE
LIAM
