Page 18 of Torch

“Lucky for you, I can cook for both of us. Now, come to the kitchen with me and keep me company.” He grabbed the bags and headed to the kitchen.

He removed his cut, hung it on the dining room chair, and started removing items from the bag.

“So, what are we eating tonight, Chef Christo?” I asked as I leaned against the counter.

Christian faced me with a grin. “I remember you saying pasta is your favorite kind of food, so tonight, we’re having baked ziti with a Caesar salad and homemade garlic bread.”

My mouth just had an orgasm. I had butterflies in my stomach, realizing that Christian paid attention to everything I said to him. It was refreshing to date someone who genuinely wanted to know about my day or what I needed and wanted.

“That sounds amazing,” I gushed.

“It’s going to taste amazing as well.” He grabbed an apron from one of the bags and put it on. When he turned to face me and I read it, I burst into laughter.

“Mr. Good-Lookin’ is Cooking? Really?” I snorted.

He walked over to me until we were only inches apart. I had to crane my neck just to look him in the eyes. Heat instantly swirled in my center. This happened anytime Christian was close to me.

“You don’t think I’m good-looking, beautiful?” His deep baritone voice caused goosebumps to pebble over my skin.

“I do,” I said just above a whisper.

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and leaned forward. With hands on either side of me, I was trapped between him and the counter. “What else do you think about me?”

I opened my mouth, but the words got lodged in my throat. Before I could answer, his phone rang. When he pulled it out, I noticed the caller's name read Angel. Christian rolled his eyes and declined the call.

Instantly, I became suspicious. Although Angel wasn’t a gender-specific name, I had my guard up. Christian was a very attractive man, so I knew he probably had a harem of women chasing him. I saw it firsthand at the diner with that waitress.

As he was about to pocket his phone, another FaceTime call came through. I believe he was going to decline it again until he saw the look on my face. He shook his head with a grin and answered.

“Yes, Angel.”

He kept the phone angled on him but made sure I had a clear view of the caller. On the screen were four very beautiful little girls with eyes that matched his. It was clear that three of them were identical, while the fourth had a few differences and was noticeably a tad younger.

“Uncle Torch, where are you? You missed dinner,” the little girl scowled.

“Yeah. You said you would bring us cookies,” another little girl said. She wore a necklace that read Naomi.

Christian chuckled. “Naomi, cut it out. I know you’re at Gigi’s and she has plenty of cookies there.”

“But where are you?” the first little girl asked again, leaning into the screen. It was then that I noticed her necklace. She was Angel.

“Why, Angel?”

“Because I asked,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Christian narrowed his eyes. “Okay, which one of your mamas put you all up to this?”

The girls' eyes briefly looked away from the screen before they refocused. “We just missed you, Uncle Torch,” Naomi said, oversweetly.

“You’re a very bad liar, Naomi,” Christian teased her.

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he rebutted childishly.

“Am not!” she shouted while her face formed into an angry expression.

“Are—”