Page 18 of Toxic Truth

“What do you think?” She dug into the stew, stopped chewing, and stared.

“What? You hit a bone? It’s too hot? Too cold?”

“Try freaking delicious.” She gobbled it as Bullet did his meals even though he’d never gone hungry. Kenzie had. The moment she lowered her spoon, Lucas refilled her bowl, put the pot on the table, and sat. “Eat all you want. There’s enough here for thirds, fourths, and beyond.”

“Thanks.” She finished several mouthfuls before her chews slowed. “Don’t tell me you actually cooked this.”

“Okay, I won’t. Except I did.”

“Get out.” She pushed his shoulder. “This is…” Her glee faded to apprehension.

Why? The monitors showing the outside were empty except for what should be there. “What?”

She licked juice off her lips. “I was going to say the stew’s awesome, but— What exactly is in here?” She made a face and leaned away. “Did you kill it?”

Keeping in his laughter wasn’t easy. “No. I don’t have any cows on the property. Plus, I get my meat in a supermarket, the same as nearly everyone else. I’m former military, not Robinson Crusoe.”

“Got it.” She dumped more into her bowl then swore. “I’m not leaving you any.”

“I already ate. Go on, finish everything.”

“No can do. Get your bowl.”

Once he had, she filled it and pushed four biscuits to his side. “Butter?”

“Coming up. Along with your hot chocolate.” Which he’d prepared as she showered.

She clapped then stopped. “Marshmallows?”

He let out a deliberately long and noisy sigh. “Good Lord, woman, you’re are fucking hard to—”

“Nope, I’m good. Sit.” She patted his seat. “Did your mother or the Army teach you how to cook?”

“Mom.” He broke several biscuits in two and slathered real butter on them. “Since she had all boys, she needed help in the kitchen. We were it.”

Kenzie swiped a biscuit he’d prepared, took a huge bite, and moaned. “God, that’s amazing.”

Crumbs and butter clung to her mouth, inviting him to suck it clean. Keeping his head, he handed her a napkin.

“Thanks.” She tongued her lips instead. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Two. Both older.”

She nodded, took another bite, and chased it with hot chocolate. “They’re Rangers and snipers, too?”

“God no. Frankie’s a software engineer like Dad. They work at the same company. Sam’s an educator like Mom. She does elementary. He teaches high school math.”

“Great professions. What’s with the ‘god no’ about them being military?” She pointed her spoon at him. “Didn’t you like what you did?”

“My parents didn’t. When I enlisted, they gave me no end of grief. Dad wanted me to be a doctor. Mom would have been happy if I’d become an oral surgeon.”

Kenzie took in him and frowned. “Nope. I can’t see you as either. Ranger fits you perfectly.”

“Yeah?” His already high confidence soared. Before he got too giddy and crossed any lines, he calmed. “I should have you talk to them.”

“They’re still not happy about your career choices?”

He prepared two more biscuits and put them on her plate. “They’d like me to choose an occupation where danger’s never on the horizon.”

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