Page 88 of The Persistence of Thornes
And obviously, the answer is him.
He peers over his shoulder and adds, “For dinner.”
I busy myself putting away the box of pasta, hoping he can’t see the way my cheeks heat. “Oh, um…” I rack my brain, but it’s pointless. I’m all out of sorts. “I’m not that hungry, actually.”
“Well, I am.” He steps closer and looks me up and down. At least I think he does, but maybe my horny brain is making stuff up now.
“What about a grilled cheese?” he asks.
“Grilled cheese?” I stutter out in surprise. “For dinner?”
“Sure.” He pulls out the packages of cheeses he just put away. “I love a good grilled cheese.”
I eye the selection. “I’ve only ever used Kraft American cheese.”
He groans, his head tossed back. “You haven’tlived, Halle. It’s decided. I’m making grilled cheese for dinner.”
Seriously? This man is seriously talking about a grilled cheese right now, and all I can think about is whether he has any plans to get me naked.
“Slice this up for me?” He points to a loaf of sourdough.
“When did you get that?” I bump his hip with mine so I can get a knife from the drawer.
“Seda brought it over with her. Apparently, Salem is trying her hand at making bread.”
My chest tightens a fraction at the mention of his ex-wife. “I had lunch with her today.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?” He pulls out the grater and gets to work on the cheese.
“It was good.” I slice the bread carefully, ensuring each one isn’t too thick. “I like her.”
“Salem’s pretty hard not to like. I think you two could be friends.”
“I’m not good at making friends,” I admit, keeping my focus fixed on my task.
He goes still, his gaze boring into me. “Could’ve fooled me. Aren’t we friends?”
“Yeah, but that was all you.” I throw a smile his way. “You’re kind of persistent.”
“Only about things that matter,” he says, expression earnest.
“And I matter?”
He wets his lips with a small swipe of his tongue, his attention dropping to my mouth. “You know you do.”
Caleb takes the bread from me and butters one side of each slice. He adds a sprinkle of shredded parmesan cheese on top before putting it that side down in the preheated pan. Without looking up, he adds a selection of cheeses to it, then finishes by setting a second slice of bread on top.
“That’s an interesting concoction you have going there.”
Spatula in hand, he lifts the sandwich just a little to see how it’s browning. “You’re going to be begging me for it every day.”
My silly, touch-starved brain takesthat sentence and runs with it, my core pulling tighter and a thrill zipping through me.
He flips the sandwich, the fresh buttery side sizzling in the pan. “I can feel you staring at me.” He peers over his shoulder, his blue irises a deeper shade than usual.
I don’t bother to look away. “Guilty.”
Though I’ve been apprehensive about being alone with him all day, I’m instantly thankful my brothers aren’t here. I need this man to kiss me and put me out of my misery, and I’m not sure I would allow him to do that if they were around.
