Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
When we were together before, he hated to cook.
This new side to him is…intriguing.
“Are you going to hover, or are you going to come and get a cup of coffee?” he asks without turning around.
“I didn’t make any noise. How did you know I was here?”
“I always know where you are, Annika.” He turns to look at me over his shoulder, and the look he sends me makes my stomach quiver. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Oh, I’m hungry.” I cross to the island and sit in one of the stools, resting my chin in my hand as I watch while Rafe moves about with grace. I don’t mention that I’m equally hungry for him to boost me up onto this island and have his way with me, as I am to get my fingers on that bacon. “Wait, you made bacon with no shirt on? That’s awfully brave of you.”
“No.” He chuckles and then turns to pass me a cup of coffee, just the way I’ve always liked it. He remembers how I take my coffee? “I was wearing a shirt, but it got splattered, so I took it off.”
He flips the pancakes.
“How do you want your eggs?”
“I have to say, I’m impressed, Rafe. You used to hate to cook.”
“I can’t eat takeout all the time like I could when I had the metabolism of a teenager,” he replies. “And a man has to eat.”
“I suspect your metabolism is just fine.” I sip my coffee. “I’ll take mine scrambled.”
“Thank God. That’s the only way I know to make them.”
We laugh together as Rafe cracks more eggs into a clean bowl and begins whisking them with a fork.
“Did you know that if you add a little dill to the eggs, it adds a nice flavor?” I ask.
“Who’s doing the cooking here?” He opens the spice cabinet and hums as he picks up little bottles and then sets them down again. “Dill is on the shopping list.”
“We have a shopping list?”
“Of course. I didn’t know what you might like to snack on. I remember some of the things you used to eat, but tastes change.”
“Going to the store sounds good to me. I’d like to start cooking dinner in here tonight. Unless you have other plans.”
“My mother invited us over for dinner.” He sends me an apologetic glance. “But I can cancel if you’d like to take a couple of days to settle in first.”
“I adore your mother,” I reply honestly. “I can cook tomorrow. Ivie told me the other day that she and Shane are coming to Seattle for a couple of weeks. They arrive on Wednesday.”
“Shane mentioned it,” he replies as he sets my plate in front of me and then joins me with a loaded serving of his own. “It’s been nice this fall. Not as rainy as usual. If the weather holds, we might take the boat out on the Sound.”
“You have a boat?” I munch happily on a piece of bacon.
“A few, actually. My father always liked to sail. We spent a lot of time on the water growing up. It’s been a busy year, so we haven’t been out as often as we’d like. If the weather holds, we’ll go.”
“Fun.”
“Do you get seasick?”
“I never have.” I shrug a shoulder. “I should be fine.”
“Good.” He leans over and kisses my temple. “I’m looking forward to sailing with you.”
“So, let me get this straight. You’re a badass mobster who cooks breakfast and enjoys sailing?”
“I’m a man of depth.” He chuckles. “Mobsters have lives, too, you know.”
“Sure. Those lives just include killing people.”
“Sometimes.” His voice quiets as he wipes his mouth. “Sometimes, it does. But that doesn’t happen as often as you’d think. Certainly not as often as it has over the past year.”
“You really have had a busy year, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” He laughs, and I can’t help but join in. “It’s nice to know that things are calming down a bit. At least, for a little while. It gives me time to spend with you.”
“I have questions.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Okay. Shoot.”
“I know that Carmine is a financial planner and works for the family.”
“Yes. He’s a nerd.”
I smirk. “And Shane does stuff for the government that we’re not really allowed to know about.”
“Yes, he’s a meathead.”
I laugh and bump him with my shoulder. “Why don’t I know what you do?”
“You know.” He frowns over at me. “I fly.”
“For who?”
“Anyone who wants to hire me. Although I have a stable of regulars that I work for and haven’t taken on anyone new in quite some time.”
I sit and blink at him. “I knew you know how to fly, it just didn’t occur to me that you did it for a living.”
“I’d rather fly than do just about anything else.”
“Then why don’t you work for a commercial airline?”
“Because I have a demanding family, and I need to be available to them at a moment’s notice. That’s hard to do when you’re on a rotating schedule with an airline.” He shrugs and shoves almost half of a pancake into his mouth. “I’m doing what I like.”