Page 353 of The First Taste
Curiosity pulls me toward the stove, though I stay far clear of Hades’ big body. He sends me another look laced with amusement.
“Shakshuka. It’s a middle eastern recipe. Eggs poached in tomatoes.” He raises an overflowing measuring cup full of stewed tomatoes, showing it to me before he pours it into the frying pan where the onions and garlic have been popping and crackling.
“That smells amazing,” I say, edging cautiously toward the stove. “Kind of reminds me of the smell of crawfish etouffee.”
His brow furrows. “Cannae say that I’ve had that.”
“It’s a creole dish.” I take a deep breath and my mouth starts to water. “Where did you learn to cook that?”
He clears his throat, turning the heat down and putting a lid on the dish. “In my later teenaged years, I suppose. I was with the Special Air Forces, stationed in Casablanca.” He purses his lips and lifts a shoulder. “We had a lot of free time. Free time and a fucking lot of sand.”
My eyes widen. “You were in the military?”
I look at him, trying to imagine him wearing a deep blue khaki shirt and pants. I would bet anything that he filled out the uniform perfectly.
“Yes.” He smirks. “I haven’t always been in my current line of work. Though I have to say that I vastly prefer the freedom of my new job, not to mention…” He gestures around to the house. “The pay is substantially better, if ye can imagine.”
My lips twitch. “You seem to gravitate toward very dangerous career paths.”
A rumble of something that might be laughter leaves his chest in a huff. “Yer right about that, lass. I dinnae mind living on the edge.”
My stomach growls audibly. Hades slides me a look. “Sit down. I’ll feed ye.”
Wrinkling my face, I do as he says. For a couple of minutes, I watch as he adds eggs to the mixture and pulls a golden loaf of crusty, tantalizing bread from the kitchenette’s tiny oven.
Soon enough, Hades slides a steaming hot bowl of poached eggs and tomato in front of me, accompanied by a fragrant hunk of bread.
“I need—“ I start.
He cuts me off. “Ye dinnae need a fork, lass. That’s what the bread is for.”
He sets down a bowl in the spot beside mine and sits, picking up his own piece of bread. “Like so.”
Hades scoops his bread into the tomatoes, raising a heaping bite to his mouth. He blows on his food for a second before he devours the tomatoes and peppers off the bread. I watch him for a second, my lips puckered in a frown.
I don’t understand why Hades is suddenly being so… well, so damned hospitable to me. Picking up the hunk of warm bread, I sniff it.
Hades stops eating, looking at me. “What? Ye dinnae trust my food even though I am eating it too?”
I drop my gaze, my face warming. “Why should I trust you? You took me from my home and keep holding me hostage.”
He takes a big bite, shrugging. He chews and swallows. “So? That doesn’t mean I’m going to poison ye, lass. Ye might be here against yer will, but we dinnae have to be enemies. I bear ye no ill will.”
My brows rise at his words. “But I have to get back to my life!”
Hades squints at me, his mouth flattening. “What exactly are ye so fired up about getting back to? Before we found ye at the gas station, we visited yer little hovel.”
Anger flashes through my veins, quick and hot as lightning. “It’s not a hovel.”
He shrugs. “I’ve been all over the world, including extensive travel in countries that could be considered the third world. Trust me when I call it a hovel.” He takes another bite of tomato, this time careful to add some egg to it.
“Fuck off,” I say, raising a finger in warning.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head in response.
I look down at the food. My stomach growls again so I tear a tiny piece of bread off, stuffing it in my mouth. The groan of satisfaction that slips past my lips is entirely unintended.
“Umf,” I sigh, closing my eyes. It is very good bread, crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, buttery through and through.
