Crew by Melody Anne

Author:Melody Anne [Anne, Melody]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Best Selling Author, Billionaire, Love, Melody Anne, Military, New York Times, Romance, Romance Author
Publisher: Falling Star Publications
Published: 2021-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

After a long day at work, Crew walked into his house to the scent of basil, tomato sauce, and garlic. His stomach grumbled, and he realized he’d forgotten to eat lunch. He’d had a busy day with two clients at his office and a trip to the state prison. He loved doing work at the prison, loved trying to solve the puzzle of severely damaged minds.

He turned a corner and saw Darla at the stove, a large spoon in her hand as she tasted a red sauce. She sighed, not realizing he was there. He stood and watched her for a moment as she set the spoon down, then picked up a bottle of spice and shook it over the pot. Her hips were swaying to a sweet country song as she moved over to the sink, humming the words, five . . . more . . . minutes. He’d never been a big country music fan, but the deep timbre of Scotty McCreery’s voice had gotten to him.

Darla stopped, spotted him, then took his breath away when she smiled, the expression reaching her eyes and making his heart skip a beat. He loved coming home to her.

“It looks like you’ve been home a while,” he told her.

“I got off early and decided to make you my famous spaghetti. I warned you I’m not a great cook, but the five dishes I do make, I make to perfection,” she said. She moved over to the fridge and pulled out a half-empty bottle of wine. He spotted the glass on the counter that was nearly empty. She took another glass down, filled it, then refilled her own before sliding the other to him.

“Mmm,” he said with a wicked smile as he leaned over the kitchen island. “Good. I like my woman barefoot and serving me.”

She gaped at him for a moment, and he saw murder in her eyes. Then she saw the sparkle in his own and she laughed with him. Walking around the island, she wrapped her hands behind his head and kissed him, all laughter instantly draining away. Just as he was about to throw her over his shoulder again, she nipped his bottom lip hard enough to make him gasp, then quickly danced away with a laugh.

“That’s for the sexist comment,” she told him, putting an extra sway in her hips as she moved back to the stove. His eyes were on her ass, just where she knew they’d be.

“Little minx,” he said as he lifted his glass. “Do you need help?” He could sit at the counter all night and watch her. She was poetry in motion, and he never knew what would come out of her mouth from one minute to the next.

“Nope. You’d just ruin it. You’re a worse cook than I am, and that’s really saying something,” she told him.

“What else do you have cooking? The house smells like a fine Italian restaurant,” he said as he looked at the counter full of bowls and dishes of food.

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