Page 31 of Burn for You (Slow Burn 1)
Top with prosecco and garnish with mint.
Simple Syrup Preparation
Combine 1 cup sugar and 1 cup water in saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat. Store leftovers in airtight container in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
NINE
JACKSON
My father once told me the only difference between a woman and a man-eating shark was the size of their teeth.
At the time I’d agreed with him. I’d had good reason to. But watching Bianca Hardwick move gracefully around my kitchen, making us lunch while chatting animatedly with Charlie and interacting with Cody as if she’d known him since birth, made me think that might have been too harsh a judgment.
And no shark on earth had an ass like Bianca’s.
Besides being a fucking masterpiece of design, the damn thing was an eyeball magnet. I’d already caught myself half a dozen times ogling it, my dick twitching under my zipper like some horny teenager’s. Even those hideous brown work pants she favored that looked like they were made from old potato sacks couldn’t diminish its appeal.
It was so round, like an apple. So taut and smooth. I wanted to bend her over the stool, yank those pants down her hips, and sink my teeth into it. I wanted to squeeze it and kiss it and stroke it and—
Christ, what was the matter with me?
Get a grip on yourself, Jackson!
“—like some pepper?”
I snapped back to myself just as Bianca was asking me a question. Something about pepper. I couldn’t quite remember because all the blood in my head had gone south.
“What? What did you say?”
Bianca tilted her head and gazed quizzically at me from under a pair of long, curving black lashes. “I said would you like some fresh-ground pepper with your pasta?”
She held my pepper mill in her hands. In front of me was a bowl of something that smelled delicious. I had no idea how long I’d been zoned out in Pert Ass Land, but I felt like I’d been caught red-handed. So I answered more forcefully than I probably should have.
“No!”
Bianca blinked. Her brows arched. She said, “Allrighty then. No need to alert the entire state.”
She turned to Charlie and asked the same question and received a far more polite response.
“I’d love some pepper, thank you! This smells amazing, Bianca.”
“There wasn’t much left in the fridge,” said Bianca, smiling, “but pasta and a few sautéed veggies always makes for a quick and tasty meal.”
“Sweet of you to make Cody mac and cheese,” said Charlie, nodding in Cody’s direction. He sat across from me at the island, happily slurping up cheese-covered pasta from a spoon and banging his feet against the metal legs of his stool.
“In my experience, kids will always go for a bowl of mac and cheese, no matter how much of a picky eater they are.”
“Do you have little ones?” asked Charlie.
The question startled me.
I guessed Bianca wasn’t married because she didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean she was childless. She could be divorced. She could be a single mom. She could be all kinds of things my inner caveman instantly decided needed protecting.
Bianca laughed. “I don’t, much to my mama’s disappointment.”
Then her laughter died. Her face did something strange. Her eyes registered pain for a moment, but then she squared her shoulders and smiled.
It looked forced.
