Page 8 of Secret Santa

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“You’ve got to have something better than that.” Nick walked to the fridge and bent over, looking inside.

Her eyes instantly went to his ass. He was wearing jeans just as worn as hers, only his fit… exceptionally well. The man had an ass that made her mouth water.

She didn’t realize he was still talking until he glanced back and looked at her, his eyebrows rising slightly.

“What?” she asked, shaking her head to clear thoughts of his ass.

“You have fresh eggs in here and bacon,” he repeated.

“And no time to make them,” she said as her waffles popped up.

Nick took the hot waffles and gave them to Oliver, who gobbled them up so quickly, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey.” She tried to reach around him, but he laughed.

“It takes three minutes to cook eggs.” He wrapped his hands around her wrists. “Five for bacon.”

“So.” She jerked her arm free. “I’m hungry now.”

“Sit.” He smiled and pointed to the table. “I’ll cook. Drink your coffee. You’re feisty this morning.”

She narrowed her eyes and might have told him to fuck off under her breath as she sat down.

Since she’d been woken abruptly from a really good dream, she closed her eyes and took several more drinks of her coffee to calm herself down.

When she opened her eyes again, Nick was standing at her stove, flipping bacon and eggs as if he was an expert line cook.

“Why?” she asked between sips, “are you being a thorn in my side?”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her, and she felt her heart kick in her chest. Damn, he was cute. Too cute. Her heart slipped again, and her stomach dropped when she realized she couldn’t have him. Would never have him.

She looked down into her coffee and thought about her future once more. She’d been on the edge of leaving town. Heading into the city for college. Maybe Denver? But as usual, she didn’t know what she’d go to school for. She loved what she did here. Loved being a rancher. Loved working with the animals every day.

“Why the long face?” Nick asked as he set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. There were two slices of buttered toast on the side as well, and he’d set a huge dollop of homemade raspberry jelly that she’d bought at the last farmer’s market on them.

When he placed a plate down across from hers and sat down, he glanced up at her. “See, isn’t this much better?”

“Do you plan on eating here every morning?” she asked, dryly.

He smiled. “Maybe. Are you always this cheerful in the morning?”

She grunted as she took a bite of the eggs and then frowned. They were good. Really good. Better than any she’d made before. Taking another bite, she confirmed it. They were the best eggs she’d ever had.

“What did you do to these eggs?” she asked.

Nick smiled. “A chef doesn’t reveal his secrets.”

“That code is only for magicians,” she said dryly.

He chuckled. “And chefs.”

“You’re not a chef.” She took another bite.

“I’m glad you like them,” he said, taking a bite of his own eggs.

By the time she was done with the eggs, she was pretty sure his secret ingredients were cheese, butter, and salt. Either way, she didn’t want him to get too big of a head about it, so she kept her mouth shut for the rest of the meal.

When he was finished eating, he took his plate to the sink, rinsed it, and stuck it in the dishwasher. At that very moment, she fell in love with Nick Howe.


Tags: Jill Sanders Romance