Page 39 of The Hitman's Secret Love Child

I laughed, closing the fridge and spinning to face him as he entered the kitchen, my cheeks reddening as I watched him walk toward me. A shiver ran down my spine as thoughts of what had just transpired between us came to the forefront of my mind. “It was Ragu with some ground beef, not exactly fine dining.”

“From what I remember it was my favourite dish of yours.”

“Doesn’t say much about my cooking skills,” I said, shrugging, “but as long as you have Ragu and ground beef I can certainly whip some up.”

He began pulling ingredients out of the cupboards. “I have some planning to do over the next couple of days in order to fix the situation we’re in.”

“I’m in,” I corrected. Technically, it was my problem. I was just lucky enough that he was willing to throw himself into the fire with me.

He straightened up, a large pot in one hand and a box of spaghetti in the other, and gave me a no-nonsense look. “After today, we’re in it together.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“When it comes right down to it, it became my problem the moment I took the job.”

“Delivering me a message hardly made my problem yours.”

He opened his mouth as if to correct me and then seemed to think better of it and snapped it shut again. Placing the pot and spaghetti on the countertop, he reached up into the overhead and pulled down some Ragu and spices. “There’s more to it than that.”

“Like?”

His eyes locked with mine and I knew there was more, but he wasn’t about to tell me what it was. “Like, I have to finish what I started and then it’ll be over.” I frowned. I wanted to push him but knew it was pointless. Besides, little ears were within hearing distance and hanging on every word between us.

“Maybe we’ll discuss it later.” Constantine jerked his head in the direction of Austin. “I still haven’t gotten it all figured out in my head yet. This isn’t an easy situation.”

“I know.” Taking the pot, I filled it three-quarters of the way full with hot water from the tap and placed it on the stovetop, turning the heat to high. By the time I was done with the water, Constantine had a frying pan out and was placing a large portion of ground beef in the pan along with a sliver of butter.

As we prepared supper together, spaghetti and meatballs along with Caesar salad, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt very easy and familiar being with him; this wasn’t the first time we’d prepared supper together.

“What are you grinning about?” he asked as he turned off the burner cooking the spaghetti and began to drain it.

“Nothing.” I was slightly embarrassed. I really didn’t want him to see me mentally wandering down memory lane. Just because we’d fucked didn’t mean he still loved me, as much as a secret drawer of stuff from our past said otherwise.

“So, you’re grinning like an idiot in the middle of my kitchen for nothing?” His lips formed into a lazy grin and he cocked a brow up at me.

Giving him an exasperated sigh I shrugged, feeing outright silly now. “I was just thinking about all the times we made supper together in the past. Your father and mother would be so busy with the bar that we basically had the house to ourselves every evening.”

“Yeah. It was simpler times then.”

“How are your parents anyhow?”

“Good. Working hard as usual.”

“The bar is doing well?”

He laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. “Not so much anymore. Father refuses to evolve with the times and it’s hurting him. But he’s so damned pigheaded he just won’t face the truth. What about your folks?”

My folks, that was a tough issue. “I haven’t spoken to them in a while.” That was an understatement, but I didn’t comment further on it and prayed he wouldn’t question me. He didn’t. I was grateful.

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