Because the problem is, this woman has made me break every rule I live by. Repeatedly.
Rule one. No getting attached.
Rule two. Maintain professional distance. No exceptions. And for the love of God, stop staring at her lips.
Rule three. Never, and I mean never, revisit a one-night stand. The clue is in the name.
And then there’s Mt. Vesuvius.
He’ll take any excuse to inch closer to the center of heaven, and I don’t trust that fucker for a second.
But I can’t tell Gabe any of this because, frankly, I’m attached to breathing.
I take a slow slip and nod once. “I’ll do it.”
Relief floods his face. “Thanks, man. I owe you. And I trust you.” He grabs the plates, and starts setting the small table. “You’re one of the few straight men on the planet who doesn’t want to get into my sister’s pants, right?”
I choke up my beer.
He offers me a napkin as I get my guilty breathing under control. “You all right?”
“Yup.”
That’s when Pix walks in.
Her eyes are rimmed red, like she’s spent the last twenty-five minutes locked in a bathroom, pulling herself together just long enough to fall apart again.
And if she’s anything like my sister, no one’s supposed to notice.
She steps in beside me and inhales. Whatever tension she walked in with eases away.
“Is that…?”
“Caldo de pollo,” I say, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. “Chicken. Rice. Carrots. Potato. Two pinches of Mexican oregano.” I scoop up a spoonful, blow, and lift it to her lips. “Your mom’s recipe.”
She tastes it.
Her eyes close for half a second. A quiet sound slips out of her, soft and involuntary. Not hunger. Not lust.
Comfort. Pure and real.
And hits me harder than it should.
I look away. Rule two. Remember?
She takes the spoon from my hand and goes back for another bite. Bigger this time.
A smile curves, slow and satisfied. Something warm fills my chest.
And suddenly, I want to give her this. Every day.
She glances up, still chewing. “How can I help?”
I lift the dish towel from my shoulder and dab her mouth. “Just eat. Relax. I’ve got you, Pix.”
CHAPTER 35
Ava
