Page 98 of Ink and Ashes
“I don’t really cook,” she confesses as I reach a hand up to her. She takes it hesitantly, her delicate, well-manicured fingers a stark contrast to my rough, calloused ones.
She takes a seat on the edge of the island, and I wrap my hands around her waist, lifting her off it. She inhales sharply as she slides down my bare chest until her feet touch the floor. Once they do, she makes no move to pull away. My hands linger on her waist, our breathing turning heavy as I keep my gaze locked on her.
Our height difference is extra noticeable when she’s not wearing those four-inch heels that are practically an extension of her, and I have to fight to keep from placing her right back on the island where we’re eye-level so I can seal my lips over hers.
Her breasts brush against my chest as she shifts where she stands, and a low rumble rises from deep within me. She’s wearing that sexy little green pajama set again, and I can’t stop myself from wondering if that’s what she slept in last night too.
Maybe having her move in wasn’t such a good idea.
I’m about to open my mouth to say something when the beeping of the alarm stops, and Holland pulls out of my grasp before I have a chance to stop her.
I roll my shoulders back as she rounds the island, examiningwhatever it was that she pulled out of the oven sitting on the stovetop.
I close the back door now that the smoke has mostly cleared, then make my way over to her. I glance down at the pan of what I think was supposed to be bacon but is now just strips of black, a chuckle slipping past my lips.
She glares up at me. “It’s not funny!”
I look from her to the bacon again and my laugh grows harder, wondering how the hell someone manages to burn itthatbad. She follows my line of sight and her lips twist into a small smile too.
“Okay, okay. I told you, I don’t really cook.”
“No shit,” I tease. I slip on an oven mitt and grab the pan, carrying the blackened meat to the compost then drop the hot pan in the sink. “How about we leave the cooking to me from now on, hm?”
Her face falls. “I just…wanted to do something nice for you. To say thank you.”
I have an idea for how you can thank me, I think to myself as my eyes drop to her perfectly pouty lips. But I don’t dare say the words out loud.
“You don’t need to thank me, Holland. I’m glad you’re here,” I admit, and her eyes widen.
“You are?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you here.” I shrug. “You’ll be safe here. That’s what’s important.”
“Right,” she says, but there’s a sadness in her tone. “Safe.”
My brows pull together, but she starts talking again before I have a chance to say anything.
“This all just happened kind of fast. We didn’t really talk about the terms of me staying here.”
I cock a brow. “What terms?”
“Exactly.” She huffs a laugh, pushing herself up to sit on the island countertop. “I don’t feel comfortable living here for nothing, especially not since you’ll be feeding me now too. I’d like to pay you rent.”
My tongue darts out over my lips as I turn to pour myself acup of coffee from the French press on the counter next to me, then lean against it so I’m facing her. “You’re not paying me rent, Rhodes.”
“Colson,” she says simply, pleading with me to agree.
“Holland,” I return, and damn if I don’t love the way the name tastes on my tongue. It may not be the one she was born with, but it’sher, through and through.
She narrows her eyes at me. “I need to do something to pay you back for your hospitality.”
I take a sip of the coffee, a burst of flavour exploding on my tongue. I don’t know what she put in this, but it’s the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.
“Fine,” I say. “You wanna contribute? You can buy the groceries and make the coffee, because this is damn good.” I hold the mug up before taking another sip. “But you’re not paying rent.”
Her lips quirk up at the corner. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Okay,” I agree, then I start moving around the kitchen to finish the breakfast Holland started. The bacon she burnt was the only pack I had, so I pull some ham, eggs, peppers, and spinach from the fridge, as well as a frozen crust from the freezer. The entire time I work, I feel her gaze tracking me.
