Just to prove I'm still alive: a teaser for a book I'm currently working on... And the tropes are chefs-kiss, pinky promise!
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"I knew you were transactional. Stealing something then wanting something in return?"
"Duh, for the effort," I grin, the booze making me a little fuzzy.
It makes me crazy. Crazy how he always seems to be in control. Always patient, always waiting. Yet playing just as I do. Right when my shameless self gets lost in his eyes, my stomach grumbles, resulting in my cheeks to flush slightly.
"How about dinner? That enough to compensate for your effort?" He suggests smoothly.
Instinctively, I wet my lips. "Only if it's pasta."