Page 63 of Fighting a Riot

Her lips tipped up. “That makes two of us. It’s not like you can make it worse. Besides, the soup in there is like magic for sore throats.”

Seemed ‘Doubt’ should be his middle name since he doubted that, too.

A grin split her lips. “Don’t give me that skeptical look and judgey silence.”

He did a long blink. “I would never judge you, Nora.”

She swung her arm toward her small living room. “It’s just soup, Noah.”

Something about her using his given name always got to him. “Fine.”

Or maybe she just got to him.

No, he wouldn’t admit that to himself. That felt entirely too dangerous.

Nora

I grabbed the soup mix out of the box and bustled into the kitchen. My energy was fading fast, but I did my best to hide that from Yak. Bonus, I could hide how enraptured I was by his haircut. He looked so different, and I loved the short haircut, but part of me wished he still had his long hair. Probably because he was the only man with long hair I’d ever been interested in.

“Why’d you have to buy your soup online anyway?”

Throwing a grin at him over my shoulder, I said, “The grocery stores around here stopped carrying it. It wasn’t my idea to order it. I was going to go with a different mix, but Mom insisted and now I have over a dozen boxes of this stuff.”

I heard his boots hit the kitchen tile. “Let me make the soup, Nora. You need to rest.”

“How about you slice up some celery for me?” I suggested, tipping my head toward the fridge. “There’s also some shredded carrots in there that I put in with the boiling water.”

His lips pursed and I wanted to kiss them. Then I recalled his sore throat and I poured water into the pot.

He stepped up to the stove, effectively sidling me out of the way. “Go sit down, Nora. I’ll make the soup.”

I nudged my shoulder into his bicep. “Water has to boil first, Yak.”

His bronze eyes caught mine. “Sit down before you fall down, lady. I’ll cut up the celery while the water warms. Though, why you want to have a vegetable with the texture of crunchy, wet hair in your chicken noodle, I’ll never know.”

I chuckled. “It’s good for you.”

“Straight propaganda from the national celery foundation.”

My laughter couldn’t be contained. “There’s no such thing!”

His brows arched as his eyes met mine. “How else is March National Celery Month? Somebody is behind that.”

I plopped onto the couch still laughing. “You’re pulling my leg.”

He put the celery on a cutting board and bowed his head to watch what he was doing. “I joke about lots of things, Nora, but food isn’t one of them. Learn that quick.”

“Duly noted,” I said, tucking my feet under me.

I did my best not to stare at him, but watching Yak move around a kitchen mesmerized me… and reminded me of that one night in his galley kitchen.

He dumped the carrots and celery into the pot just before adding the noodles and seasoning packet. I knew it would be another five minutes, so I wandered into the kitchen to get us both drinks.

“I’d offer you a beer, but alcohol is off limits during my treatments.”

“That’s all right, Nora. I shouldn’t stay anyway.”

My eyes looked up at the ceiling. “We went over this, Noah. It’s just soup.”

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