Page 35 of Beyond Enemy Vows

CALLI

Niko's head jerks up, and we both whip around toward the kitchen.

"Oh shit," I gasp, the scent of burning food finally registering through my post-orgasm haze. "The pastitsio!"

I scramble to yank my tank top over my head, not even bothering with my bra or leggings. Niko doesn't grab anything, and we both dash toward the kitchen, our intimate moment shattered by the smell of charred food.

He reaches the oven first, and thick smoke billows out when he yanks it open.

I start coughing immediately. It's like something from a comedy sketch, except it's not quite as funny when you can't breathe.

"Shit!" he yells, grabbing a dish towel.

I cover my mouth and nose with my hand and rush to fling open the nearest window, then move to the next, letting the cool Irish air flow in. I'm still coughing, eyes watering, as I watch Niko battle the rising cloud of smoke.

He pulls out the dish and sets it on the stovetop with a loud clang. The top of the pastitsio looks like a charred brick. The once-creamy béchamel is now charcoal, with a dash of what looks like volcanic ash.

"Dammit," he says, looking over it.

He then shoots me a glance and through the smoke, we break.

At the same time, we start laughing.

"I set a timer on my phone, but didn't start it,” he says smiling. “I spent like 300 bucks having these ingredients shipped overnight too.”

"Guess we're not that different in the kitchen after all," I manage to say, wiping tears from eyes from laughing so hard.

"I was distracted," he says, tossing the towel on the counter.

"Oh really?"

His gaze sweeps over me. "Yes, a very demanding goddess needed my attention."

"You're ridiculous.”

He smiles. "You're blushing."

"No, I'm not," I say, even though I absolutely am.

He sighs. "I was planning to impress you," he says and turns back to the ruined dish. "Your favorite authentic Greek food cooked by a real Greek man. Now look at this shit."

I walk over and sit on the kitchen stool. "Well," I say, and pause as a few more laughs cross my lips, "you certainly did impress me. Just not with your cooking."

He turns to me, eyes dark with hunger that has nothing to do with food. "Did I?"

"Mmm hmmm," I nod, smiling up at him. "Though I am still starving. For actual food. So what now? What do we eat?"

Niko's smile turns sinful, and he leans across the kitchen island at me. "I already ate."

"Niko!"

He shrugs like it's nothing. "What? You taste better than any dinner I could've made."

"Oh my god!" I grab the nearest dish towel and throw it at his chest. "You're insane."

He smiles.

"Well, we need to eat something," I say, trying not to think about how his hair falls across his forehead when he laughs, or how the lines around his eyes crinkle. "I'm hungry."