Page 22 of Snowy Secrets

His lower lip twitches in an almost smile. "I believe I may impress you."

I nod and step back. "Have at it, then."

"Is that so?" He steps into the kitchen, his presence filling the space. "Perhaps we should have a little competition, then."

I step back and let Marcus take over. He strides into the kitchen with the confidence of a seasoned chef, rolling up his sleeves. I cross my arms, trying to maintain my composure, but the way his muscles flex as he reaches for the cocoa makes it nearly impossible.

He inspects the milk I've already warmed, nodding appreciatively. "Good start," he says, glancing at me. "But let's take it up a notch."

Marcus adds a few more slabs of dark chocolate to the pan, stirring until they melt into the milk, turning it a rich,velvety brown. The smell is intoxicating, a blend of chocolate, cinnamon, and cardamom that fills the kitchen.

He grabs the cinnamon stick, giving it a playful twirl before dropping it into the pan. "This is where the magic happens," he says, adding a pinch of salt and a touch of vanilla extract. "It's all about the layers of flavor."

I bite my lip, trying to focus on the cocoa instead of the way his shirt clings to his back. "You really know your way around a kitchen," I murmur.

He turns to me, his eyes darkening. "I know my way around a few things," he says, his voice low and husky.

Heat pools in my stomach, and I struggle to find something to say. "What's next, chef?"

He smirks, reaching for a whisk. "We whisk," he says simply, his biceps flexing as he beats the mixture into a frothy delight. "And then we taste."

He dips a spoon into the cocoa, blowing on it gently before offering it to me. "Here, try this."

I lean in, my lips brushing against the spoon as I taste the rich, creamy cocoa. It's like a warm hug in a cup, the flavors perfectly balanced. "Wow," I breathe. "That's incredible."

Marcus watches me, his gaze intense. "Glad you like it."

He gives a half-smile, the kind that makes my stomach do a little flip. "Turns out, being alone can surprise you," he says, his voice low and a little rough around the edges. "It wasn't easy at first, I'll admit."

I sneak a look at him, my heart beating a little faster. "Did you…?"

He's got this quiet strength about him, like he's been through a lot but come out the other side. He doesn't shy away from my question. "Lost my wife a while back," he says, his eyes holding a mix of sadness and warmth. "The whole 'single guy' thing? Not really my scene. She was…it, you know?" A small smile tugs athis lips. "But she'd tell me to live my life, not get stuck in the past."

Damn, my eyes are welling up. "Marcus, I…"

He raises a hand, stopping me. "Don't even start with the apologies, Bella. Heard it all before." His gruff voice softens a bit. "I'm okay now. Enough to want the things my wife wanted for me. Someone to share life with, see the world…all that jazz. But the quiet's been good, too. Didn't want to mess with it…until now."

Until now. Heat floods my cheeks, and I swear I've got goosebumps. Is this really happening?

I clear my throat, feeling the air crackle. "Okay, my turn," I say, taking the whisk from him. "I want to try."

He steps back, but his eyes never leave me. I focus on the cocoa, trying to replicate his technique. I add a bit more chocolate, a touch more cinnamon, and whisk it until it's frothy. But I can't shake the feeling of his eyes on me, and my hands start to tremble.

Marcus moves closer, his body brushing against mine. "Need a hand?" he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

I shiver, my heart racing. "I think I've got it," I say, but my voice betrays me, shaking as much as my hands.

He places his hands over mine, steadying them. "Just like this," he whispers, guiding me through the motions. His touch is electric, sending sparks through my veins.

We stand there, bodies pressed together, the cocoa forgotten as the heat between us builds. I can feel his breath on my neck, his chest rising and falling against my back. "Marcus," I breathe, barely able to speak.

"Yes?" His whisper is now on my throat, sending a fiery trail of goosebumps up my skin. And then, before I can say anything, I feel him stiffen. It's like one moment, he's craving me as much as I do him—and then, nothing. He clears his throat and takesone step back. "I apologize," he murmurs in a husky voice. "That was incredibly out of line."

I turn back to look at him, regret in my eyes. "You…" It’s for the best, though. For one thing, River is here, and I have no idea if I can handle all those emotions right now. I offer a dry smile to Marcus. "No, don't apologize. It wasn’t the moment, right?"

He returns it with a small smile of his own. "Yes. Let's say that. The moment."

I clear my throat and wheel around, feeling much more comfortable now that I'm not looking at him. "Do we have any news on the storm?"

---