Hours have passed since the altercation with Kramer. And I can still feel the phantom heat of Riley’s touch on my arm. That one brief, innocent point of contact has been threatening to send every drop of blood in my body racing south at any moment.
I usually have more self-control than this. I knew how to pull myself back from the brink of destruction and lock that shit down. I wasn’t a slave to my sex drive.
But Trooper was right. Riley has burrowed under my skin.
“I just realized you’re the first man I’ve ever had in my kitchen,” she declared.
Riley and I were cooking dinner side by side. I’d been tasked with making the sauce and garlic bread, while she boiled pasta and put together a salad.
When I offered to pick up takeout for dinner instead—she really didn’t need more work after what she’d been throughtoday—Riley insisted she was feeling like a hot, home-cooked meal amid all this snow.
I suspected that staying in motion and keeping her hands busy helped to cope with the stress and anxiety after the Kramer situation.
“I take it your ex wasn’t the type to cook?” I ventured. Which wouldn’t surprise me, given what I already knew about him.
Riley snorted and tossed the chopped lettuce and tomatoes into a bowl.
“God, no. Cooking was beneath him. A woman’s place is in the kitchen, he always told me.” She sighed. “I really enjoy making food for people I love. But it bugged the shit out of me when he said crap like that.”
She started hacking at a purple onion with surprising force. I moved to take the knife from her before she hurt herself.
“Easy, tiger,” I warned, sliding the knife out of her grip. “Why don’t you keep an eye on the sauce for a minute? There’s less risk of chopping off a finger by accident.”
We switched places and I passed the wooden spoon to her. She peered into the boiling pot and inhaled the savory herbal scented steam.
“What kind of sauce did you say you were making again?” she asked. “It smells incredible. I thought you would just warm up a can of spaghetti sauce from the cupboard, but this is so much better.”
“It’s a roasted garlic parmesan alfredo,” I replied. “My great-great grandmother brought it over from Italy when she married and moved to the States. It’s been handed down in my family for generations now.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned family,” Riley pointed out. “Are you close with them?”
I didn’t answer right away, dicing the onion and depositing it in the salad bowl.
“I try to be. But I usually feel slightly…removed. Like an extra puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.”
“Why?”
Riley studied me with an open, inquisitive gaze as she slowly stirred the sauce. As a general rule, I didn’t discuss my personal life with my clients. But she was working her magic again with her presence and those big brown eyes.
“I come from a long line of prestigious career professionals,” I finally admitted. “Doctors, lawyers, dentists, bankers, you name it. A high-end education is the name of the game in the Mullins family. Until I came along. And I did not fit that mold.”
“Were your parents disappointed?” Riley prompted gently, sensing it was probably a tender topic.
I shrugged. “They don’t say it outright, but I notice they treat me differently. At family dinner, they pepper my sister with questions about her tech career, her kids, her husband. Then they turn to me, and I can see it on their faces. They don’t know what to say. I’m a college dropout, a biker, and I make a majority of my living with brute force instead of my brains. On top of that, there is clearly no chance at a family of my own in the foreseeable future. I don’t check any of their boxes for success.”
A pause settled over the room. Riley stopped stirring and faced me, leaning her hip against the counter.
“What about your security agency?”
“It’s a part-time thing. Nothing serious. I don’t even have an office.”
“Well, I think it’s impressive,” she retorted with a sharp nod to punctuate her words.
“I’m a trained ape, Riley. Just like your ex said.”
She gestured at me with the wooden spoon, coated with sauce.
“Don’t youdaregive that bastard credit for anything. He doesn’t deserve it.”
