Page 38 of Broken Prince

She stopped kneading the dough and turned around slowly, wiping her hands on the apron, looking at me with wariness in her eyes. I couldn’t blame her for that either—I’ve been the moodiest man ever every time I was with her.

I’d contemplated coming down with an oversized hoodie again, to hide my face from her and the world, but I wanted to test her, see her reaction before she got her guard up, and I also wanted to show her in my own way that I started to trust her with who I was.

I almost smiled when I saw the appreciation in her face at my tight black T-shirt and jeans. I was not usually vain—at least not anymore. But I’ve been working very hard on my physique during my self-imposed exile. She appreciated the view, weirdly enough it was as if she, unlike anyone else, could see beyond the scars and the pain to see the man I used to be.

“Yes, I’m making Sicilian cassatelle with ricotta. Dom said it’s his favorite.”

I felt the pinch of jealousy at the mention of Dom. Was she into him? She was going to be disappointed. Dom and her? It was impossible.

“Baking his favorite. That’s nice.” I was glad at how neutral my voice sounded despite the turmoil of emotions at seeing her in the kitchen like that, wearing my mother’s apron. I hope he choked on one.

I nodded, wondering if she could see the jealousy I felt in my face.

“Do you need anything?”

I sighed. She was being professional and I wanted her to be with me like she was with Dom. “No, not really.” I sat on the stool in front of the breakfast bar, facing her. “Am I bothering you?”

“No! Of course not. It’s your home. You go as you pleased.”

Okay, not really the answer I hoped for. I would have much rather liked her to say she wanted my companionship but it was a start.

She turned around again, working on her cassatelle.

“Where did you get the recipe? It smells good.”

“I- Ummm.” She seemed reluctant to answer.

I let my eyes trail off the counter to find my mother’s notebook on the side.

“It’s okay. You can use my mother’s recipes. Dom always loved her cooking.” I took a deep breath. “You can use it for my meals too.”

She threw me a narrowed look full of doubt over her shoulder, making me laugh.

“I swear I won’t snap again…at least not for the food.”

She let out a low chuckle but turned around with her tray of dough, setting it on the counter facing me.

“What’s your favorite dessert?” she asked me, and right then I knew she’d forgiven me…again. How many times would she do that?

“Red velvet pecan brownies.”

She glanced up from her task of filling the dough.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. It just seems awfully sweet.”

“I’m a sweet man,” I teased.

She snorted but her lips quirked up, and I felt like I’d won.

It was insane the power that little woman had over me without even trying. No matter how dark my thoughts were, how sullen I was, being beside her made me feel better. I teased, I smiled…I breathed. She terrified me.

I stayed a bit longer with her, settling in a sort of peace at just watching her cook and listening to her ramble. I’d noticed she tended to ramble when she was nervous and I was making her nervous. I just hoped it was in a good way, the best way. The way she made me nervous.

“You know, I think we can stop the whole process around the meals. You know who I am.” I tried to look calm as my heart sped up in my chest. “Maybe we can dine together at night.”

She nodded and looked up, meeting my eyes with a bright smile that made me feel like a superhero. “I’d love that… But not tonight. I’ve got plans.”

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