“Then we coat and fry them?”
I nodded again.
“Got it.” He pointed a spoon at me. “You make them; I’ll layer and fry them.”
Okay, I signed, and we again got back to work.
It took us around forty minutes to finish making theCoxinha, and as Myles took the last of it out of the frying pan before placing it on a tissue-covered plate, I gently pressed more tissues over them to soak off the excess oil.
“Taste it,” he said excitedly, then grabbed a chair, brought it close to me, flipped it around, and straddled it before sitting down. “Come on, do it.”
I chuckled as I carefully broke aCoxinhainto two and plopped one half into my mouth.
Myles’s eyes were all but saucer-like as he stared at me in obvious anxiousness.
TheCoxinhaall but melted on my tongue, and it was the perfect balance of crispy, spicy, wholesome, and greasy.
I moaned as my shoulders slumped in bliss, then gave Myles two very enthusiastic thumbs up before signing,This is so good.
“Yeah?” he asked, like he couldn’t believe it.
I offered him the other half, and when he tasted it, he grinned and puffed his chest out. “So…nowwhat do you have to say about my cooking skills, huh?” He winked. “Although, I will say that your minor assistance in making these is recognized in high regards.”
I laughed and shook my head, then looked up when he stood and walked over to me. He bent and brought our faces impossibly close, and I could smell the spice on his breath; see the oil stains on his apron, and even some flour on his neck and jaw.
“We’re a pretty fucking epic team, aren’t we?” he asked, and the question was so beautiful – random, yes, but still beautiful – that I couldn’t help with smile.
I leaned in, cupped one side of Myles’s face, and pressed a long kiss on his waiting lips.We are, I signed, and I don’t think there’s ever been words that I’ve signed with as much honesty as I did those two.
53. Mates
“The two of them are MATES?! Myles all but shrieked as he looked up from the paperback in his hands. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
I pressed my lips together as I shifted a little.They are, I signed.
He blinked. “But he’s so…he’s…” He frowned. “What the shit-fuck?”
I chuckled.Just keep reading, I told him.
We were sitting in front of our massive fireplace, and Myles had basically sandwiched me between pillows and fluffy blankets, especially because we were on the floor and not the couch. There were blankets under my ass, one that was draped over my legs, with pillows bricked on either side of me, and, of course, my new best friend: the elevation pillow, which kept my right leg lifted.
The crackling of wood and fire was the only sound in the house, paired with Myles’s occasional vocal reactions to the book he was reading.
When he’d told me he wanted to read fiction, but wanted to begin with something cool and interesting, I’d suggested he start theA Court of Thorns and Rosesseries by Sarah J. Maas. He’d immediately gone online and purchased all 5 paperbacks, and honestly, I’ve never been more in love with him than I was whenhe’d held the books in his hands last week and looked at them like they were something to be cherished and protected.
I’ve picked a keeper for myself, haven’t I?
Myles began shifting toward me, in a slide-stop-slide manner that looked so adorably ridiculous that I couldn’t help but give him a ‘What’re you up to?’ kinda look.
He’d pressed the open paperback to his chest, and when he reached me, he placed both his elbows on top of the pillow to my right. “Hey.” He brought his face close to mine. “Tell me what happens in the next chapter,” he whispered, as if someone might hear him. “Please.”
I stared at him for a beat or two, slightly stunned by his words, then placed a hand over my mouth and laughed.
Man, I’d intoxicated him on book fumes, and now he just couldn’t get enough.
I wassofucking proud of myself.
No, I signed.Read it yourself.
