He used her hand to slip the yellow flinger part of the spatula under the batter. Her shoulders hunched, her chin dipped, and Eli was all about control of the flipping.
“It’s all in the wrist,” he continued on like he wasn’t turning her into a puddle of pancake batter that Lothario would have to lick off the floor. “Relax your wrist.”
She gave relaxing her wrist her best effort. With Eli’s help, they flipped the golden-brown, perfect pancake.
“I did it.” She turned around and froze.
Their hands still held the spatula and the pancake continued to cook behind her, but Eli was rightthere. Right in her space. And he was cooking for her. And teaching her how to cook. And her stomach was fluttering. And her bottom lip felt full. And he had the smallest splatter of batter on his cheek from when she’d flipped and then flopped before.
She wiped the batter off with the edge of her thumb.
He stepped back, clearly startled.
“Sorry.” She held up her hand. The one with the batter splatter.
He massaged his jaw with his palm and fingertips, apparently testing for additional splatterage.
“I got it all,” Marlee assured him.
“Uh.” Eli handed over the spatula, an odd expression on his face. “Pancake’s done.”
“Yeah.” Marlee moved the pancake to a plate, only creating the tiniest of rips in the process. “I did it.” She waved the flinging part of the spatula, whacking Eli in the nose. “Oh my gosh.” She dropped the spatula. It hit the tile with a clank.
Eli held his nose. “I’m fine. Just an accident.”
Marlee bent to grab the utensil, ready to crawl into the empty pantry and pretend to search for…whatever else went into making breakfast. She grabbed the spatula and stood, bonking her head right on the oven handle. “Ow.”
She rubbed at the spot, the kitchen tilting a little.
Eli steadied her, his hands on either side of her shoulders. “Maybe you should eat something. Before you give one of us a concussion.”
“Yeah.” She pressed the sensitive spot at the top of her skull.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” Her eyes met his, and darn it all, he really looked concerned. Which was nice. Nice to have someone look concerned. No one ever looked concerned about her. Not really. Not lately. The day was not a good one, for sure, but Eli was there for her—so little wins for the win.
“Grab a drink, go sit, and I’ll get you a plate.” Eli was already adding the slightly torn pancake to a plate and moving to the eggs. He handed it over, but she set it aside.
She hugged him. She couldn’t help it. “Thank you.”
Then something happened. Eli Howard hugged her back. And it wasn’t because she was crying and jilted, it wasn’t because she’d hit her head. Eli Howard hugged her back and she had no idea why, other than the fact that he was just a nice guy. “Anytime, Mar.”
“Leelee?” Scotty called from the foyer.
Was it her imagination or did Eli pull her tighter for just a split second?
“Leelee?” Scotty’s voice went a teensy bit higher. He’d apparently made it to the kitchen.
She pulled away from Eli and turned to face her ex. Her ex who looked like he was ready to bite Eli’s head off like a torn-up pancake.
Little wins were just not going to cut it today. She couldn’t open her lips to respond.
“Wow, you have company.” Scotty opened his eyes bigger in Marlee’s general direction. She knew his mannerisms, knew he wasn’t jazzed that Eli was making himself at home in their kitchen. Wasn’t happy that she’d splattered batter everywhere. Scotty liked his space to be a calm oasis.
Well, whatever.
“I didn’t realize you were having friends over.” He shifted his gaze toward her group of friends shuffling into the kitchen from the stairs.
