Page 58 of Snow

Snow caught the smell of garlic and butter before he even reached the galley door. The rich scent made his stomach growl, and his mouth water.

He pushed through the kitchen door and was immediately stopped in his tracks by the sight standing before him.

Nova stood at the stove with her back to him. Her hips were swaying in time with some pop song cranked so loud it covered his footsteps. She wore jeans that fit her like a second skin and a fitted short-sleeved T-shirt that left nothing to the imagination, and she was working both of them to full advantage as she stirred something in the pan, her ass bouncing with the beat. She was completely lost in her own world.

He probably should have announced himself. Instead, he stood there like a pervert, watching her dance. He felt his body respond before his brain caught up as his jeans suddenly felt tighter than they had been thirty seconds ago.

She shook her hips again, and he was fairly certain he would have his zipper branded on his dick for the next month.

He couldn’t take it anymore, and he pushed off the doorway.

“Nice moves, Hart.”

Nova shrieked and spun around, the spatula in her hand whipping through the air like a weapon. Snow jerked his head back just in time to avoid taking it across the face. At the same time, her elbow nearly clipped the pan off the stove.

Good thing she had a spatula and not one of the kitchen knives.

Snow couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of his mouth. Getting ambushed with kitchen utensils wasn’t exactly how he had pictured the evening. He lifted both hands in surrender. “I’m so sorry,” he said, still laughing.

Nova slumped against the nearby counter, her hand pressed to her chest. “Christ on a flipping cracker. You scared the ever-living shit out of me. You gotta quit using your stealthy operator skills on me.” She shot him a playful glare. “And you aren’t sorry, or you wouldn’t be laughing.”

That just made him laugh harder.

After a second, a grin broke out on her face, and she started laughing too.

He reached over and tapped her phone to turn the music down.

Nova turned back to the stove and continued stirring whatever was in the pan.

“That smells incredible,” he said, walking up behind her.

He was so close that his chest nearly touched her shoulder blades as he looked over her shoulder. “Is that shrimp scampi?”

He felt it when she noticed him, the way her breath caught, and her hand paused on the spatula for half a second. Her reaction brought a smile to his face. He liked knowing he wasn’t the only one fighting a losing battle with his self-control.

She glanced up over her shoulder at him, her dark blue eyes wide, mouth slightly open, and then seemed to catch herself.

“Uh, yeah. Scampi. Do you want a taste?” She scrambled for a fork and speared a shrimp from the pan with the focus of someone defusing a bomb. “Here. Try one, and tell me if it needs anything,” she told him as she turned and held out the fork for him.

Instead of taking the fork, he gently grabbed her wrist. Their eyes were locked. He slowly leaned in and took the fork into his mouth. As he slid the shrimp from the fork and took a bite, he caught the faint hitch in her breathing. Her lips parted ever so slightly as her gaze drifted to his mouth before slowly lifting to meet his eyes again. The blue of her irises had darkened, her pupils widening just enough to betray what she was trying so hard to hide. He still held her wrist, her pulse fluttering wildly beneath his fingertips, matching the thud of his own heartbeat.

There was no mistaking it anymore. Whatever was happening between them definitely wasn’t one-sided.

Before he could think better of it, he found himself leaning closer. The space between them disappeared inch by inch, his attention fixed entirely on her. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in too, her eyes closing as his gaze dropped to her lips.

BEEP... BEEP... BEEP...

The shrill alarm from Nova’s phone shattered the moment like a grenade.

Snow froze as reality came crashing back. With a reluctant sigh, he released her wrist.

Nova let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like disappointment before reaching for her phone on the counter and silencing the alarm.

“Well,” he muttered with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck, “your phone has impeccable timing.”

Nova’s cheeks went pink, and she quickly turned back to the stove, her attention on the Scampi that luckily hadn’t burned while they had been completely distracted by each other.

Stepping back, he asked. “What can I help with?”