Page 9 of New Year, New You and Me

“Who’s the untrusting one now?”

“You’re right.” He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Standing hip by hip, I tell him about mirepoix and show him the best ways to peel and dice the holy trinity for our sauce. Once I’m confident neither of us will lose any extremities, I leave him chopping carrots into small, precise pieces.

“You’re pretty good at this,” he says. “Where’d you learn to do this?”

“Honestly? Videos online.” I laugh to myself. “I do a lot of scrolling through social media when I can’t sleep at night.”

“And social media showed you how to do all this?” He gives a low whistle at my nod. “I might have to revisit my feelings on the whole social media thing if it means making food as good as this smells.”

“Honey, we’ve barely started. You should wait and see how this smells after it’s been simmering for a couple of hours.”

“My mouth is already watering.”

Something about the way he says that, with his voice all low and husky and his blue eyes smoldering, has my heart beating erratically again. And the longer I stand so close to him, his rich musky scent and the warmth of his body radiating through me, the more aware I’m becoming of a hunger inside of me.

A hunger that has nothing to do with the sauce we’re preparing or the calories we burned earlier at the gym.

Oh God.

I’m not attracted to Bradley in a fleeting way. I want him. Badly. This is… not good.

Suddenly weak in the knees, I grip the edge of the counter.

“Whoa.” Setting down the knife, he grips my elbows. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” I lift my eyes to his and my breath catches at the intensity of his gaze. “I think my blood sugar is off or something.”

“Oh. Shit.” He strokes my upper arms. It’s so soothing. So natural. I wonder if he even knows what he’s doing.

Or the effect he’s having on my already thrumming body.

“Can I get you a glass of water? Or juice?” he asks. “Is there anything I can do?”

I can think of something. But I’m not sure how he’d respond to me asking him to take off his pants.

I rub my lips together. His gaze drops to them. Fire lights his eyes. It hits me. That fire I’ve always seen. It isn’t antagonism. It isn’t mockery. It’s desire. Red, hot desire.

For me.

Now, like a moth, I’m drawn to the flame. I lean toward him. His head lowers. My eyelids flutter shut.

The alarm on my phone rings.

FOUR

BRADLEY

Molly recoils and I step back, my ass bumping into the stove. It’s a good thing we aren’t using one of the front burners. I could have gotten burned.

Though, I’m not convinced that couldn’t hurt any more than the constant erections I seem to be getting every time I’m around this woman.

Cheeks flushed, Molly fumbles for her phone on the counter and turns off the alarm. “Sorry. That was a reminder for something I need to do.”

“Gotcha.” I shift back and forth on my feet to ease the aching appendage between my legs. “Do you need help?”

“Thanks, but, I’m good.” She takes a deep breath and sets the phone down again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

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