Page 15 of Shotgun Spouse

Her glare softened slightly, but she said nothing. Instead, she focused on her plate. She took her first bite. The fork paused halfway back to the plate as her mouth formed a soft, involuntary “O.” Her lips curved. Her brows lifted. Her expression was one of pure, unguarded delight.

Teddy couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at his lips. She took another bite, her movements slower this time, savoring the flavors. For a moment, there was no sound but the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional contented sigh from the baby.

Teddy leaned back, watching her. There was something in the way she sat there, in his kitchen, eating the meal he’d cooked. That felt so... right. He didn’t care about the snowstorm, the baby, or even the fact that they’d probably have to explain this night to half the town come morning.

Right now, this moment was enough. And for Teddy, that was everything.

CHAPTER TEN

So the man wasn’t entirely useless. Teddy Carter could cook. He could cook really well. Well, now that he’d discarded his earlier attempt that had taken on a little too much flame.

The savory aroma of rosemary and butter lingered in the air, wrapping around Bunny like a cozy blanket as she reluctantly set her fork down. The plate in front of her was nearly spotless, the sauce wiped clean by the last bite of bread she’d shamelessly used to soak it up. She only just stopped herself from swiping her finger through the drippings—barely.

Bunny leaned back in her chair, trying to summon some shred of willpower, but when Teddy slid another helping onto her plate, the soft clink of the serving spoon against porcelain made her stomach growl in betrayal.

“Seriously?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Are you trying to fatten me up or something?”

Teddy grinned, his dimples showing as he pushed the steaming plate toward her. “You looked like you wanted more. Thought I’d save you the trouble of asking.”

Her mouth twitched, caught between exasperation and gratitude. She wanted to say no, to resist the temptation, buther stomach had other ideas. She picked up her fork, muttering, “Well, it’d be rude to let it go to waste.”

Teddy chuckled, and Bunny couldn’t help but notice how his laugh warmed the room more than the heater humming quietly in the background. Then, as if he weren’t already making her head spin, he set a steaming mug of tea next to her plate. Her favorite brand. The one she drank religiously every day at 10 a.m.

Bunny stirred the tea. She wasn’t sure what unnerved her more—the fact that he’d noticed or the fact that it made her chest tighten in a way she wasn’t prepared to unpack.

“You must have a lot of practice,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Cooking for women in this house, I mean.”

“I've never brought a woman to this house. You’re the first.”

“The first?”

“Aside from my mother, you’re the only woman who’s ever been in here.”

Something in her chest gave a little flutter. She shushed the butterflies down, telling them that he probably took his conquests back to their places after dates. Though, come to think of it, she hadn't seen him out on the town with any conquests. Hadn't heard about any exploits.

Sure, she'd seen him with women. But come to think of it, they were usually the mothers of children he was playing sports with in after school or weekend programs. Many of them were married, but Bunny saw how they stole glances at Mayor Carter's backside when he turned around.

She wracked her brain, trying to think of a single instance when she’d seen him on a date. Nothing came to mind. He was always with the guys from the office or out playing basketball or soccer with the kids.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she glanced down and realized her plate was, once again, completely clean. She presseda hand to her stomach. She was stuffed, but she still eyed the pan on the stove where another helping remained.

Casually—too casually—she said, “If you’re not going to eat the rest, I’d be happy to take it home.”

“No way. This dish is best served warm, right out of the oven. Leftovers don’t do it justice. If you want more, all you have to do is ask. I’ll make it fresh for you.”

Something caught in her throat. It couldn't have been food because she'd swallowed every morsel down. But there was something there.

She wasn’t used to this—to someone offering to take care of her without expecting anything in return. It felt... foreign. Disconcerting. And oddly comforting.

For the first time in a long while, Bunny didn’t know what to say. So she didn’t say anything at all.

She slid off the stool, her belly full and her thoughts heavier than she cared to admit. She carried her plate to the sink. The faint clink of porcelain against steel broke the quiet. The warmth of the kitchen lingered on her skin, a contrast to the icy snowstorm raging just outside. As she scanned the countertops, her gaze landed on a cabinet under the sink. She instinctively reached for it, searching for cleaning supplies.

“What are you doing?”

“You cooked,” she replied matter-of-factly. “So I’ll clean.”

“Not in my house. I made the mess; I’ll clean it up.”

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