“Anything for you, Teach.”
My lungs inflate in a rush.
Because I think he means exactly that.
“More?” I ask in disbelief.
“There’s no such thing as too much garlic.”
“Except when it’s so intense that it gives me garlic breath,” I protest.
No one wants to kiss a gross, garlicky mouth.
He shoves another clove into the garlic press and squeezes, dropping the extruded contents into the pot of soup he’s somehow whipped up.
Lasagna soup because he didn’t have enough noodles to make a full pan, but he had the rest of the ingredients.
“Two garlic breaths make a right.”
I just shake my head, but I’m smiling and?—
Then I’m being kissed—a short, blazing press of his mouth that sets my heart pumping.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask as he pulls back, grinning.
“Getting my fill of you before garlic breath.”
Startled, I laugh, and he opens his mouth, no doubt to tease me again when his phone rings. He tugs it out of his pocket, silences it. “My brother,” he explains.
“Answer it,” I say. “I’ll keep adding garlic.” A beat. “To fend off the vampires and all.”
He grins, brushes his mouth over mine, and swipes, lifting his phone to his ear. “Blake,” he says, hand settling on my back, fingers brushing lightly over the curve of my hip.
I haven’t missed what he’s doing with the soft touches, the gentle presses of his mouth.
Getting me used to him being close—to touches from a man that aren’t scary, that don’t bring pain, that won’t drag me back into a nightmare.
Just me and him…
And the fire he’s building inside me, one ember at a time.
I exhale, relax into him, am rewarded with his warm body and his spicy scent and the rumble of his voice as he talks to his brother.
“Noodles,” he murmurs and it takes a minute for me to realize he’s talking to me.
“What?”
“You can add the noodles now,” he says, reaching past me and snagging the bowl.
I take it from him, dumping the contents into the pot and stirring.
“Yes”—Colt sighs—“that’s a girl.”
Amusement has me glancing up at him. He’s shaking his head, but his mouth is curved and when his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with humor.
“No,” I hear. “You don’t need to talk to her.”
Curiosity blossoms in my belly. “I’d love to talk to him.”
