It makes me laugh, and I move around to block her from the final steps. “The Prince family would not appreciate me giving out their recipe to just anyone.”
“Rude!” She huffs, stepping back and crossing her arms.
I glance over my shoulder and grin. It makes her blink quickly as her cheeks flush. She’s so damned cute. Turning to the counter, I set the dry mixture beside the package of chicken. “Hand me one of those.”
She picks it up, and I begin the process of dipping it in the liquid mixture then rolling it in the dry. From there they go into the fryer.
“You really expect me to believe you played pickup with Donald Prince? You?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I can’t play basketball?”
“I just can’t imagine it. You strolled down from your penthouse here all the way to SoBro to play basketball in the park with a bunch of poor kids?”
“I feel like you’re insulting me, but I’m not sure.” I repeat the process with the remaining pieces of chicken.
“I’m just speaking as a former poor kid. Your kind never played with us.”
“My kind?” All the chicken is in, and I hit the button to fry them. Then I switch on the faucet and wash my hands. “That feels very prejudiced against rich kids.”
“Puh-lease.” She rolls her eyes, and I catch her by the waist, pulling her to me.
She doesn’t fight o
r pull away, and I decide to be honest with her. “I was a pretty lonely kid. I was an only child, my dad worked all the time, and my mom died when I was ten.”
Her brow furrows, and she does a little frown. “I’m sorry.” Her voice is softer.
I give her waist a little pull. “It’s okay. I’d go to the Y and hang out with the kids there. I met a lot of people. Learned things.”
“Like how to play basketball and make hot chicken?”
“Yep. And it’s where I met Taron and Marley.”
“You’ve known each other all your lives?”
“Pretty much.”
Her lips curl into a smile, and the fist in my chest unclenches. Her blue eyes are so pretty. I reach up and cup her cheek with my hand. “What did you do as a kid? Play at the Y?”
“We played at the beach. I didn’t even know it was special. It was free, so it’s what we did.” A dreamy look is in her eyes as she remembers.
For some reason, our voices have grown soft, our bodies relaxed together. I’m still holding her waist, and her hands are on my chest. I lower my face so that my nose is at her temple and inhale gently.
“You smell so good.” That heat begins to rise between us.
“My sister made it for me. She makes organic perfumes and things. This one’s a body lotion, actually, but I love it. It’s coconut and ginger and other stuff. Did I mention she keeps like ten cats and she still lives by the water?” My brow furrows as I try to keep up with her words. Our eyes meet and she blinks, flushing a pretty shade of pink and shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”
“Do I make you nervous?”
“A little bit.”
Her confession makes me smile; it makes me think of doing dirty things with her. I move my hands along her waist, finding the skin beneath her sweater. She inhales sharply when I touch her, and I pause.
“I have a confession.” My voice is low.
“What?”
“I’d like to kiss you again.”