Page 71 of Love Without Demands

“It smells delicious. What is it?”

The timer dinged, and I donned an oven mitt and pulled the tray from the oven. “Nothing fancy. Just Cuban crushed potatoes. I wasn’t sure how you would feel, and these are great if you have a queasy stomach.”

I sprinkled green onions across the top, plated two for each of us, and sat beside her at the kitchen bar.

Lehra groaned at the first bite. “Oh my damn, these are delicious. How do you make them?”

“Boil them, smash them, brush them with oil, add seasoning, and then broil for about six minutes. My mom used to make them when I was little, and she’d let me smash the potatoes after they were boiled. I thought it was the most fun thing ever.”

“Your mom sounds awesome. I’d love to meet her sometime.” Then her bare cheeks flushed a pretty rose color. “I mean—”

“I’d love for her to meet you,” I broke in. “After all, fair is fair since I met your mom. How is Tabby doing, by the way?”

“Busy as heck. She and my dad are actually going on a cruise next month. Dad is self-employed, so he hardly ever takes time off work.”

“My papa was the same.”

We talked about our families until we were done eating, and then I took the plates to the sink.

“Just leave those. I can do them since you cooked.”

“I got it,” I told her, starting to load the dishwasher. When I was done, I turned and leaned my butt against the counter, my hands resting beside my hips. “So, I understand you want to have Viking sex.”

Her eyes went comically wide, and she shook her head vigorously from side to side in denial. “N-no I don’t. I—” Her eyes flashed to her phone, and she let out a loud groan. “Ohhh, gawd! Stupid quiz.”

“I wasn’t trying to snoop. I saw it when I was setting your alarm.”

Lehra huffed out a breath and stood, stomping toward the living room.

“Where are you going?” I asked, pushing away from the counter.

“To drown myself in the East River,” she threw back over her shoulder.

Laughing, I caught her in two strides, looping an arm around her waist and hauling her back to the barstool. “Sit,” I ordered, both hating and loving the flush rising up her neck. “Take a look at what’s in that bag.”

After glaring at me for a long moment, she pulled the book from the bag and stared at the cover. Her eyes blinked and returned to mine, confusion lacing her expression.

“You bought me a book?”

I shook my head. ‘“No, I boughtmyselfa book. I was trying to get some tips on how to talk to you about my… desires.”

Her gaze flicked back and forth between the book and me, trying to figure this all out. “So you…” She licked her lips and started again. “You like this?” She lifted the book and waved it at me.

“Yes, I’m into role playing.” It felt good to say that out loud and with confidence.

Her eyes narrowed. “Like, what kind of scenarios?”

Here we fucking go. I’m about to tell her something I’ve never shared with anyone.

“Did you ever see that eighties movie,Splash?”

“The one where Daryl Hannah played…” Her eyes widened in realization. “You have a mermaid fantasy?”

“Yes, among others.”

“Like what?” she challenged.

I stroked my chin. “Well, very recently, I’ve had the urge to be a Viking.”

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