Page 142 of Eternal
“You’re gonna make me beg for it, aren’t you?”
Her laugh is low, warm. I feel it more than I hear it. “Maybe,” she hums. “If you’re a good boy.”
Christ.
“Cocky,” I mutter, shaking my head.
She shrugs, smug as hell. “Confident, I prefer.”
And fuck if I don’t catch myself smiling.
I don’t smile a lot. Not really. Not in a way that means something. But here? With her?
I don’t have to think about it, it simply happens.
I slide my hands into my pockets, leaning back against the counter. “So, this…mansaf. It’s your mom’s thing?”
She nods, but she doesn’t look at me. “Yeah. I haven’t made it in a while. I used to help her when I was younger. If we can call little me running around her legs, helping.”
“Sounds like she was a damn good cook,” I say, because I want to keep her talking.
She looks up at me then, and for a second, she holds my gaze.
And maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m making shit up, but I swear I see it, that warmth that always scares me, like she’s looking at me differently, like I’m more than the guy she’s supposed to work with.
“Yeah.” Her voice is softer now. “She was.”
She makes it look calm, stirring, reaching for spices, brushing a stray hair back with the back of her wrist. Effortless. I shouldn’t be watching her like this, but I can’t help it.
“Do you cook?” she asks suddenly, pulling me out of whatever the hell this moment is.
I blink. “What?”
She smirks like she caught me red-handed thinking about her. “I asked you if you cook. Real meals, I mean.”
I lean in a little, “Define‘real meal.’”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a tug at the corner of her lips. “Anything that doesn’t involve a microwave and no plate.”
“Well, then. Guess I’m out.”
She snorts, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s time you learn,” she says, and her voice is light, but there’s something in it that feels like an invitation.
I force out a laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll stick to takeout with my beautiful partner in crime.”
Her eyes flick to mine, “Maybe the partner in question would love to teach you how to cook.”
My partner…
I clear my throat, shrugging. “Okay then. If my partner wants it, then I want it too.”
I watch her move around the kitchen, completely in her element. The calm slice of the knife against the cutting board, the gentle sizzle of whatever she’s tossing into the pan, it all comes naturally to her. I kind of like it. The whole atmosphere. Her being excited to show me something about her.
I just sit back and watch, arms crossed, not even trying to hide my amusement.
She glances over her shoulder, catching my eye. “What? You gonna help or just sit there and stare at my ass?”
I chuckle, a little too loud, just to annoy her. “I am helping by staring at it. You wouldn’t want me to mess this up.”
