Page 26 of Expiry Dating

“Sweetness,” he greeted as he opened the door, “goddamn, you look good.”

That smile hit the butterflies in her stomach at full force. She managed a “hey” as he gestured her inside, not taking his eyes off her once.

“Why do you always smell of chocolate?”

“What?” The question caught her off guard.

“Chocolate,” he asked again, looking at her like she was the mad one. “You always smell like chocolate.”

She let a giggle burst free, momentarily forgetting to be nervous. “Oh ... um ... I think it’s my body lotion. I use cocoa butter.”

He quietly contemplated her answer and nodded.

It was then that she noticed the smell wafting in from the kitchen; it was amazing. So amazing, her stomach groaned in approval.

“Did you cook?”

His grin widened as he took hold of her hand and led her into the kitchen. “Spaghetti and meatballs. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with pasta. Who doesn’t like pasta, right?”

Like most sane women without a gluten allergy, she loved pasta, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was why he was cooking for her in the first place. It felt a lot like a date.

This is not fucking casual.

But because she was a pasta-loving coward, she didn’t say anything and tossed around the idea of telling him after her belly was full.

They sat at the kitchen table, which also looked suspiciously un-casual. He’d put down a tablecloth, laid out cutlery, napkins, and was that a frigging candle? She was definitely going to have to have a talk with him. She was still side-glancing the candle when he placed her plate in front of her. Suddenly, all candle-related thoughts dissipated as her mouth began to water. It was time to dig in.

“Jesus. How did you learn to make meatballs like these?” She was fully aware of the moan of pleasure that escaped her lips.

He let out a chuckle. “Military. There is only so much ramen I can live off, so I had to learn how to cook.”

“Your mum didn’t teach you?” She didn’t know anything about his family, only that he grew up in Bluestone.

He cleared his throat, his tell-tale that he was uncomfortable. “No, my mom ... she wasn’t much of a cook.”

“Where is your mum now? I never hear you talk about your family.” She shouldn’t really pry, but the fact that she didn’t know all that much about him dawned on her.

He set his cutlery down and took a gulp of his beer before locking eyes with her. “She passed away while I was deployed.”

Shit.

“I’m so sorry, Brady.”

He waved her off. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago. She was my only family. I never knew my dad, and my mom never had any more kids. So, to cut a long story short, the reason I don’t talk about my family is because I don’t have one. Not in the conventional sense anyway.”

It wasn’t fine. That was obvious from the pain that misted his eyes. Why didn’t she know this about him?

Because you’ve been too busy hurling insults at him to actually get to know the guy?

That was it, she needed to know more. Lily was right, there were no set rules, which meant there was nothing stopping Alice from doing what she felt was right.

Brady had gone back to eating, totally unaware of the new ache in her chest. “In the conventional sense?”

“Yeah. Jake is like a brother to me, as are the men I served with. I’m lucky that I’ve made my own family.”

A smile crept over her. She was happy he had that. “The guy I saw you with at the diner the other week. Is he one of your surrogate brothers too?”

No longer looking tense, his features lit up. “Yeah. That’s Ace. He was my team leader. He’s a good guy. Next time he’s in town, I’ll introduce you.”

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