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He leaned forward with heat in his eyes, bracing muscled arms on my doorframe. “I came to see you. To say hi. Hi.” His voice was low and deep, and hit me right between the thighs, just as he intended no doubt.

“Hi.” His bold moves always made me feel like a shy girl, but the heat in his gaze reminded me that I was all woman. “Want to come in?”

Antonio nodded as he stepped inside, his chest brushed against mine which forced me to move back. His lips pulled into a smile that grew closer and closer before his mouth crashed down over mine. His kiss was hot and hungry, his hands held my face like I was someone he cherished, like I meant something to him.

I groaned at the way his tongue tangled with mine and slid my hands up and across his strong back, let my fingers explore the ridges of muscle and bone until my finger tips curled into his thick, dark hair. “Hi.” That one word came out breathless. And happy. “How was New York?”

“Good.”

“Good?” I folded my arms. “That’s all I get?” I didn’t expect him to open his heart up to me, but a little conversation wasn’t out of the question. Was it?

“Nope. I’ll tell you everything. Over dinner.” He took a step backwards and returned to the porch to pick up two canvas sacks. “I’m cooking.”

“How can I turn down a meal cooked by a handsome chef?”

His lips twitched before he unleashed a crooked smile that had the butterflies in my stomach doing somersaults. “A handsome professional chef, you mean?”

“Yeah, all that,” I told him with a wave of my hands. “The kitchen is that way.”

“Oh, I remember exactly where the kitchen is. And the living room.” His gaze fell on the sofa as he passed the living room, and he no doubt had the same thoughts I had whenever I looked the sofa since our night together. “Can’t forget that sofa. Ever.”

Yeah, I couldn’t either. Unfortunately. This thing wouldn’t last forever, but that sofa was just two years old and I didn’t want to think of Antonio every time I looked at it. “Kitchen, straight ahead.”

He laughed again. “How do you feel about dumplings?”

“I love them. What kind?”

“Shrimp and pork. I’ll teach you how to make the wrappers, it’s easy.”

“Easy,” I rolled my eyes. “You chefs always say that, and so rarely is anything involving dough easy. So rarely.”

“Trust me?”

I nodded because I did trust Antonio, at least when it came to food. The way my heart raced as he smiled at me, and my thighs tightened when he licked his lips, told me that I couldn’t trust him or me when it came to my heart. “Fine. Beer?”

“Isn’t that how we ended up naked last time?”

“No,” I laughed. “Pretty sure it was because I threatened to pick you up, and that, for some reason, got you all hot and bothered.”

“It wasn’t the threat, it was the woman.” The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine and I went to the fridge, stuck my head inside for a long moment before I pulled back with two beers.

“So, tell me about New York.”

“Bossy. I like it.” Antonio smiled and unloaded the ingredients on my counter before he got to work and I settled on one of the stools on the opposite side of the island. I settled in to enjoy the sight of him at work. “New York was short and sweet. I filmed a cooking segment with Wallace Young, which was pretty amazing.”

“The guy who mixes cuisine types to create crazy dishes?”

“You know him? Yeah, he’s a crazy son of a bitch, but also a genius.” The fondness and awe in his voice told me a lot about Antonio as a chef.

“You really are one of those dig your hands in the dirt and taste leaves kind of chef, aren’t you?” I pegged him all wrong, at least on that account. “The real deal.”

“Disappointed?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.” The fact that he was genuine would make it harder to keep my distance, but it was good to know he wasn’t just some leather-clad, tattooed poser.

“Good.”

I took a long pull from my beer bottle and sighed. “Yeah? Why?”

“Because it means you’re seeing me in a different light. And because it’s giving me some insight into who you are, Augusta.”

“Me? I’m an open book.”

“Not all the time. I know you’re a nurse who works with children, you care a lot and you’re a smart ass. Other than Ollie being your dad, I know almost nothing about you. Do you have a mother?”

I laughed. “Don’t we all?”

He dipped his head and gave me a look.

“Okay, yes I have a mother. She walked out when I was twelve years old and I haven’t seen her since.”

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