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“I’ve been cooking since I was seven years old,” I confessed. “I had to become self-reliant almost from the womb.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and we both looked up to find several people waiting to enter the elevator and one or two trying to get out behind us.

Kale dropped his hand from the small of my back, but before I could even feel a twinge of disappointment, he caught my hand and entwined our fingers as he pulled me out of the elevator and toward the main entrance.

“I’d really like to try your barbeque flatbread. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since I moved out here,” he told me as we walked out onto the street.

“Really? That’s kind of sad.” I wasn’t even looking where we were going, my eyes glued to him. Plus, my brain was shutting out everything else except this guy and how nice it felt to have him holding my hand. I barely noticed when we crossed the street until he stopped beside a white car and lifted the trunk to stow my case. Then I was forced to take notice of what was going on around me.

The white car didn’t really surprise me. It was a Corvette ZO6, trimmed in black. My dad had had an old corvette that he would work on when he wasn’t deployed, so I knew there was speed and power under the hood. Anticipation of riding in it flowed through my veins.

“Like it?” He shut the trunk and walked me around to the passenger side.

I nodded. “It’s a sweet car.”

When he opened the door for me, I just stood there, too stunned by how much of a gentleman he was being. I didn’t think guys actually did that anymore, but I liked it.

“Why this car, though? I imagined you to be a Lamborghini kind of guy.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not the type of guy you’re used to, doll.” He winked, closed my door once I was seated, and then moved around the front of the car to get in on the driver’s side.

I was starting to realize that he was definitely not like anything I had expected. I wasn’t usually so wrong about people. I normally had a sixth sense about people, yet with Kale, my other senses where so out of control I couldn’t get a good read on him.

I liked that he could surprise me. That he wasn’t anything like I had expected. I really liked the things I was learning about him. So far, this hot rocker was turning out to be a good guy.

Once he was behind the wheel, he leaned his head back against the headrest and glanced over at me. “What do you want for lunch?”

“I could cook for you,” I surprised myself by offering. I never cooked for anyone—ever. Not even my roommate. Yet, I found myself wanting to share my favorite food with him.

“I’d like that. But let’s save that for dinner.” He reached out, pushed my hair over my shoulder, and grinned down at me. “That is, if you let me stick around that long.”

FIVE

Kale

I learned a lot about Santana over lunch.

She didn’t even realize she tossed her hair over her shoulder ten times in as many minutes. She had the faintest laugh lines around her eyes that told me she smiled a lot. She ate like a dainty little princess.

She had picked some bistro a few blocks away. It was nice outside, so all the tables on the patio had been taken, but we had been lucky to get a table by an open window. It was lunchtime, so the place was crowded, but I barely noticed everyone else. All I could see was Santana.

For the last half-hour, we had been doing nothing but talking and eating, and I had been trying my damnedest to make her laugh. Her giggles were bell-like, but her real laugh was slightly deeper, and I grew addicted to the sound. However, it was the little snort that had just left her that was the most adorable sound I had ever heard. It was my new favorite sound in the world, and it made me want to do it repeatedly.

Her hand covered her mouth as pink filled her cheeks, and those big brown eyes that were like melted dark chocolate widened like she was surprised the sound had actually left her.

I couldn’t hide my grin as I leaned in close to her. “What was that?”

She dropped her hand from her mouth to pick up her water glass, trying hard to pretend the snort hadn’t happened. “What?” I lifted a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes at me. “It happens sometimes. Not for a long time, though, so I forgot that it tends to happen when I laugh too hard.”

Her hair had fallen over her shoulder again, so I reached forward and tossed it over her shoulder, taking the chance to run my fingers over the silkiness. The scent of her shampoo drifted over to me, and I caught a hint of cherry blossoms. That smell took me back to my childhood when my mother would wear the Japanese cherry blossom lotion I would buy her for Christmas. I had saved some of the allowance my grandmother had given me each month to get my mom a present every year.

Pushing back the memories of my mom, I focused on Santana. “I like it. You should laugh that hard at least twice a day. Now I have to make you do it again.” I watched her eyes fill with surprise as even more pink filled her cheeks.

She was so damn beautiful, and when she blushed like that, it did crazy things to my dick … and my heart.

She sat her water glass down and rolled her eyes again. Fuck, I loved how sassy she was.

“You’re a freak. Who else would like the sound of a pig snorting?”

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