Page 76 of Iron Shield
He stared at her, a place deep in his chest sparking with emotions he didn’t want to name. “You made me stuffed pork chops?”
“That is not the point, Rome.”
“It’s a little bit the point.”
She hurled a pillow at him, and he caught it with a laugh.
“Your teammates devoured every bite, so you don’t even get to have leftovers. Not that you deserve them.”
He watched her, throbbing hard. There was something magnificent about how worked up she was over pork chops. The pink high in her cheeks and that set of her chin made his fingers twitch to reach for her.
He scooted closer, but she grabbed another pillow and wielded it like a shield.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. There wasn’t time.”
“Jolie said Archer always takes time to say goodbye even when he’s running out the door to catch a helicopter.”
He gave her a playful smirk. “Next time I’ll wake you up and give you a formal goodbye.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” Her lips twisted as she fought her smile.
He trapped one of her curls between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a little tug. “I’m being sincere.”
“You’re being a smartass pretending to be sincere.” Her voice shifted into a new rhythm with less heat, slipping into a cadence they both knew.
He realized in the middle of her outburst this wasn’t really a fight. This was them.
This argument was only Stina’s way of letting him know she missed him without coming right out and saying it.
And their bickering…was foreplay.
His mouth curved, and her eyes flared wide, mouth parting as she prepared to give him the sharp edge of her tongue again.
He cupped her proud chin and swiped the pad of his thumb across her pursed lips. “How can I make it up to you?”
She crossed her arms over the sheet, unimpressed with his attempt. “I don’t know. Pork chops aren’t exactly replaceable.”
“I can think of a few ideas.” He slid his hand from her face to her side and started kissing his way down her throat, lower—
“Nope.”
He stopped and looked up at her. “No?”
“Not like that.” She pushed at his shoulder, though there wasn’t much force behind it. “I mean, Ilikethat.Obviously.But I need more than that.” She stared at him as if he could readher mind, and he realized he was in deeper trouble because he wanted to.
Propping himself on his elbow, he studied her. “What kind of more?”
“I have cabin fever, Rome. I’ve been underground for what feels like a month.”
“Two weeks,” he confirmed.
He understood where she was coming from. He was Blackout, which meant he did anything he was ordered to, even if it was living underground. But she didn’t sign up for this.
He racked his brain for something to make this stay easier on her. “You seem to enjoy cooking.”
She tilted her head. “I do. But the equipment in your kitchen is terrible. If I’m going to practice making bread, I need a proper mixer, and half the pans are warped.”
“I see. What did you used to do before all this?”
