Page 67 of In Every Chapter

“Yeah, while we were dating. It was good.” I’d agreed mostly just because of the way her face lit up when she talked about it, but it had been a great book. Profound and haunting in the best of ways.

Paisley snorted. “Good? No, no, no. Good is for salted caramel ice cream, French press coffee, and chocolate chip cookies. They’re good, but not exquisite. That is a masterpiece.” She sniffed appreciatively. “Like your spaghetti. Gimme.”

I twirled a forkful of the noodles, making sure to get a proper amount of sauce, and held it out to her.

She leaned in, but a soft gasp escaped her parted lips. She gripped my wrist and twisted it, nearly upsetting the fork. “Your arm!”

“It’s nothing.”

She traced a finger lightly over the crisscross of angry scratches dotting my skin, courtesy of Jerry. “I’m sorry. This was my fault.”

“You take a lot of blame for things you can’t control,” I said hoarsely. Goose bumps rose on my arm, which was ridiculous. But she was touching me. Willingly. She was close. So close I could have traced a line of kisses along the constellation of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. In fact—

“Did you clean them?”

“Hmm?” The bizarre jar of my thought pattern sent me for a loop.

“The battle wounds. Did you wash them? Cat scratches are notorious for carrying infection and—stop laughing at me!”

I couldn’t help my chuckle. “You’re very sweet. Yes, I cleaned them. Now will you taste this?”

Paisley grumbled adorably, but a smile hovered around her eyes. She blew softly, then pursed her lips around the mouthful and hummed with delight.

Never had I been so jealous of an utensil.

“You are amazing! That is amazing!” She hummed again. “I love it.” Then she eyed me. “I’ve had this before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah. Though I’m not sure you were ever so appreciative in your praise.”

“I was a fool then. That sauce is worthy of legends and ballads.” She beamed up at me, eyeing me for a moment before abruptly leaning in and kissing my cheek.

I’d been trained to expect the unexpected. Endure pepper spray. Have nerves of steel to handle grenades. But nothing had prepared me for that kiss.

I froze, but it was so fast, she was already hopping off the counter before I could react. All I could do was stare at her, mouth agape, as she walked away.

Paisley must have felt my gaze because she peeked over her shoulder and winked. “I can read, after all.”

I glanced down at my apron. Kiss the Cook. Sign me up to cook every meal if it meant we could go back to her being comfortable enough to keep kissing me.

Dinner was comfortable, and I could almost imagine nothing had changed. We were us. Paisley told me about her day, and I returned the favour. She washed and I dried the dishes before we settled back on the couch with our fancy dessert bowls filled with fresh fruit and whipped cream.

“Your night to pick a movie,” I said.

Paisley tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Is that what we usually do? Trade nights or do we bicker until we both decide?”

“Both?” I grinned. “Or we play Scrabble and you try to make up words without me noticing.”

“I would never!” she gasped in mock horror.

“Oh you would. Preglacierary was the last one you tried, insisting it meant the period before a glacier started freezing.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I stand by that assessment. Just look at the prefix and suffix. Very logical.” It would have been a stronger defense if she hadn’t punctuated it with a cute yawn. “But I don’t think I’m up for word games tonight.”

I gestured to the small DVD cabinet because we were old school like that. “Take your pick.”

“How much will you hate it if I say Pride and Prejudice?”

“Shall I make the tea?”