Romancing the Bookworm by Kate Evangelista

Author:Kate Evangelista
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Xavier

I CRACKED FOUR EGGS into a bowl, breaking the yolks with a fork and whisking them into a yellow froth. Behind me, Tamara chopped mushrooms and tomatoes. She still wore that gorgeous swimsuit with her shorts. I had to repeatedly remind myself to keep my hands to myself. Even though we’d spent most of the morning tandem surfing, I couldn’t get enough of the feel of her body against mine. Only my concentration on keeping us from wiping out tamed Junior into submission. If I’d broken my focus for one second, I would have been as hard as a rock with her sweet, sweet ass pressed against me on that board.

We’d commandeered the kitchen from Carmela as soon as we’d left the beach. I think the only reason she let us into her domain was that she had to go to the market for supplies. I silently thanked whoever listened for her need to run errands. Now I got to cook for Tamara—another phase of the plan completed. Tattered as the plan may have been in the beginning, our tandem surfing stint saved some of it.

“Shame the waves died down,” she said, the slow rhythm of her chopping an indication of her disappointment. “I really wanted to stay in the water.”

“Look at you taking to surfing,” I teased. “I’d say you’re a natural.”

“You think I could go on my own?”

I thought about it while I poured olive oil into a hot pan. The eggs followed. “Pass me the mushrooms and tomatoes.”

She handed me the chopping board, and I dumped a fistful of each into the firming yellow mixture. I pinched some salt and pepper, never taking my eyes off the pan. This process was the most delicate part. If I folded the omelet too early, it would fall apart. Too late and the egg would get brown and disgusting.

Tamara put the chopping board in the sink. “So? You think I could go out on my own?” she asked again, reaching for a plate from the cupboard.

“We can start you with a body board then work our way up,” I said, all my attention on flipping the omelet. The tip of my tongue stuck out of the corner of my mouth. I flicked my wrist and folded it in half, not ripping the egg at all. I only breathed in relief when I slid the finished product onto the plate Tamara handed me. Then I added the best part: a healthy dose of ketchup and two fists of cheddar cheese.

I placed the plate on the counter while Tamara filled two glasses with iced tea from the fridge, then I traded her a fork for a drink. We sat beside each other at the counter. I dug into my breakfast and hummed. Tamara looked at me skeptically.

“What?” I asked around my chewing. “Seriously, it’s good. I’m not kidding.”

Tamara tentatively poked the omelet with her fork and took a corner for herself. She hesitated on the first chew, but after a second, she got what I meant.

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