“I’m still in love with you.”
I giggled, my grin spreading wide. “That’s good. Because I still hate you too.”
He pulled me in for a smiling kiss. “I’d expect no different.”
“Put a lid on the pan,”I said around the massive strawberry I just stuck in my mouth.
“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, Chef,” Harlan said, teasing eyes flicking up to mine.
“It’s rude to talk back to your chef, Chef.”
“Heard, Chef,” he deadpanned.
I sat at Harlan’s kitchen island, wearing one of his shirts and enjoying our afterglow over a breakfast cooking lesson. We were tackling omelets and cheesy grits, plus the fruit we cut up to snack on. We had music on, and a coffee cup warmed my right hand.
A perfect moment in time.
As long as I didn’t consider the possibility that he would maybe move in a matter of weeks.
But I was actively practicing the art of not looking down.
Harlan was still futzing around, so I reiterated my advice. “Lid on, Chef.”
“Why?” He threw his hands wide. “Chef.”
“Look who’s a brat now,” I mused. “Can’t take an order to save your life, but I’m trying to save you from a crusty omelet.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I like a little crust.”
“The crust smells like wet dogs,” I objected. “Please just put the lid on and taste it. If you truly like crust better, I’ll let you crust all you want next time.”
He sighed and opened a cabinet to get a lid, setting it on top of the pan. “There. Happy?”
I popped a piece of melon into my mouth. “Very.”
He started to wash the prep dishes and peered at me over his shoulder. “I hope we have a lot more next times.”
My lips curled up. “Me too. You’ll owe me a couple since you’re taking me to meet your parents later. I’m starting to think you like me.”
Harlan turned off the water and walked my way. He opened my thighs and stood between them. His fingertips caressed my cheek and those pretty blue eyes took in each feature on my face. I was just about to question what he was up to when he spoke. “How dare you think I like you.”
THIRTY-NINE
HARLAN
JUNE
I woketo someone slamming around in our Los Angeles hotel room. Emma barely stirred, snoring away on my chest.
That guaranteed it wasn’t her wandering around.
“Liam?”
I shifted to look at the clock, finding that it was just after dawn.
“You alright?”
His shadow was silhouetted in the bathroom mirror. “I want to talk to you.”
