Page 39 of A Minute Past Midnight

“Juliana.”

She laughed again and handed me a bowl. “Crack the eggs.”

I looked down at it. “Like this?”

“Yes, but don’t get the shells in there.”

“You got a lot of rules, shorty.”

“Because, apparently, I’m cooking with a five-year-old.”

I shot her a look, but she was smiling too hard for me to be offended.

The truth was, I liked this.

I liked standing beside her in my kitchen. I liked her laughing at me. I liked how comfortable she seemed moving around my house.

By the time we finally sat down to eat, I was proud of myself.

I’d successfully cooked eggs.

With supervision, of course.

Juliana took a bite and nodded. “Okay. Not bad.”

“Not bad?”

“That’s a compliment.”

I smirked. “I was expecting something better.”

“Don’t get cocky. You’re still on probation.”

I laughed, taking another bite before looking across the table at her. “So, tell me something I don’t know about you.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

Her expression softened slightly.

“There’s not much to tell.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She played with her fork for a moment before finally speaking. “I grew up pretty well. My parents own a few supermarkets, and we lived in a big house.”

“How big?”

She smiled. “Bigger than this.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Damn. You trying to hurt my feelings?”

She laughed. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

“Rich girl.”

“I wish that were true.”