She sneezed again, this time louder and more forcefully.
Please, let this be just allergies.
“Bless you,” he said through the door.
Zora’s gaze darted about the room as she replaced the snow globe on the nightstand and picked up her tote with her change of clothes. She needed to get him talking.
“Yep. I’m coming.”
Later on, when they were up to their waists in inventory, about the only icebreaker Zora could come up with to get Mike talking was the subject of food. It was the only topic where both of them were on common ground, given her love of making it and his of consuming it
“I can’t believe lasagna is the only thing you know how to make.” Zora propped herself up on her tiptoes on the top rung of the ladder.
She heard a muffled snicker at this. “It’s lasagna. What else would I need?” Mike was still in the kitchen freezer, reviewing the inventory log against the meat supply.
“It’s good in here,“ he called out. “Fully stocked…but for the sake of cutting out an extra trip, I’ll prep an extra order. More chicken and beef. Anyway, back to your assault on my signature dish, now you can educate me about other cuisines, oh master Creole-Mexican chef.”
Zora giggled at this. The clock was officially ticking on her cookbook. She’d come up with that fusion based on her family roots and the food she most often consumed. She needed no particular day of the week to prompt her to eat tacos.
“What about Mexicole or Crexican? Well not that, but something along those lines for the title?” She tossed the ideas over her shoulder at Mike who laughed robustly.
“What’s wrong with Creole and Mexican Food Fusion? It’s a title on a cover. Give it a fancy font and a flashy photo of something delicious, and it’s fine.”
“Ugh, no. I want it to be catchy so people can hashtag it and start a foodie movement.” Zora bit her lip and squinted. ”Creo-Mex?”
“Hard no on that one.”
“It’s kind of cute.”
Mike grimaced. “So, I take it you’ve decided against the haggis then?”
“You already knew that was the lie, so stop teasing me.”
From the ladder, Zora could see his head bowed over a clipboard poring over the numbers the same way she’d done the paper goods and boxes. Mike sat back on his knees and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds. “Why would she ask us to do the inventory if she stocked the entire kitchen before the trip? This place is overstocked.”
“Did you really expect anything less? Bite-Sized is Sophia’s baby.”
Sophia had created everything from the savory and sweet tapas to the kitschy pastel decor. In only two years, word of mouth had helped her place become a go-to spot for a quick, healthy lunch or a night on the town.
Mike shrugged, got to his feet, and walked out of the freezer to wait while Zora took account of the supplies on the shelves.
“Um, let’s add…one more bulk box of napkins just to be safe,” Zora said lowering herself one rung at a time as she double-checked each shelf. “We have enough of everything else for at least two or three months. This is overkill, even for Soph.”
“I know. It seems off.”
“Oh my God. I’ve got it. CreOlé. As in olé.” She snapped her middle fingers and thumbs like a flamenco dancer, beaming with excitement. It was all more Spain Spanish than Mexican Spanish but the “olé” worked. “I love it!”
She was just about to step down when she noticed an opened box of Styrofoam take-out containers. It was still pretty full, but to be sure she leaned over, stretching her arm to reach and then sneezed—a chest-heaving, full body sneeze, which caused her body to jerk back, tipping the ladder and her along with it.
One second she was free falling and the next, she collided with a solid wall of muscle for the second time that day.
Mike had caught the ladder with his right hand and Zora with his left. His body trembled and his hands were gripped tightly around her. His eyes widened with terror, and his breath came fast and hot like he was hyperventilating.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute, too. Her breathing came faster and harder as she clutched onto him.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” The bass in his voice thundered against Zora’s chest. “You don’t sound so good. Are you feeling all right?”
Are you?
“Allergies are evil.” Not that she could think about her nose at a time like this.
Every tingling nerve ending in Zora’s body danced beneath the pads of his fingers. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out how she was going to let go. He smelled so good.
She breathed him in on a slow tantalizing inhale. She didn’t mean to sniff him, but at the moment, her body wasn’t exactly listening to her.
“Did you just…smell me?” he asked, giggling.
She had no idea how tight she was holding onto him until she felt the rhythm of their hearts matched beat for beat.
Her voice dragged out dreamily. “What cologne are you wearing? You smell really good.” Zora pressed her nose to his neck and took a long whiff. His skin was smooth and warm to the touch.
“Think you can stand on your own two feet?” He was still holding her, and it felt really good to be in his arms again. He was rough and gentle at the same time, like at any minute he might throw her up against the wall and kiss her until her lips were good and swollen.
She pressed her fingers to her lips and smiled at him. “No, seriously.” Sniff. “What is that?” Sniff. “Soap? Cologne?” Sniff. Sniff.
Mike leaned back and looked at her with his arresting green eyes. Suddenly, she could not breathe properly. They were both staring at each other with wide-eyes and parted lips as if they were caught somehow.
Please don’t put me down.
“I’m going to put you down now, okay?”
“No.” As far as Zora knew, her obsession with Mike was always a teenage crush that had gone on too long. It never wavered, but she assumed it was normal not to forget your first. He was her first crush, first kiss, first…lover. Back then, every girl in school who wasn’t after Everett was trying to get with Mike. He had always been gorgeous.
How did I miss this?
Whatever it was happening between them, it was way beyond rules.
How on earth was it possible that she could be around him almost daily from the time she was a scrawny knock-kneed kid and not see all this happening before her eyes?
Who was this magnetic man with his heart and his keepsakes tucked away?
Zora cocked her head slightly, scrutinizing every line of his warm honey skin. She inhaled and couldn’t seem to let him go. Her right arm was perched on the cliff of his broad shoulders, and with her hand she pressed into the curve of his neck. The man was lean and firm.
“Zo?” Her name came out on a whisper. Mike blinked almost in slow motion. His eyes were twinkling.
See! Right there.
Where did those adorably sexy sweeping eyelashes come from?
Have they always been there?
Now she blinked hard, but, he was still there, and a slow and cocky, beautifully boyish grin began tugging at the corner of his mouth that was lined with the scruff of a trim goatee.
Good lord, his mouth.