Page 77 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

I give her a sideways glance. She grins.

"I mean fresh basil at the end. Just a little."

She steps closer to the stove.

"The tomato and roasted pepper are rich, and then the cardamom comes in underneath. Fresh basil would brighten everything at the end."

I consider the sauce. Then her. Her confidence wavers.

"Or not."

"You're very opinionated for someone who stole my spoon."

"Borrowed."

"You put it in your mouth."

Her eyes meet mine. That was the wrong thing to say. We both know it. The air changes. Tuesday afternoon is suddenly standing between us again. A little color rises in her cheeks.

"I should go. I have to help Cole."

"Probably."

She takes two steps toward the door. Then stops.

"Although, if you add the basil, don't put it in yet."

I turn toward her. She's facing me again.

"It'll lose what you want from it if it sits in the heat too long. Add it right at the end."

I fold my arms.

"Anything else?"

She studies the pot. Actually studies it.

"Maybe a touch more salt."

I close my eyes.

"But taste it first."

I open them. She's still there.

"Didn't you say you had to help Cole?"

She blinks.

"Yes."

"Several minutes ago."

A grin threatens at the corner of her mouth.

"He's very patient."

"He's going to have to be."