Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,39

an asshole again, but I would do the whole flower thing again to see her smile like that.

“This has to be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She walks over to me and gets on her tippy toes and for just one second, my heart stops. My breathing stops, everything stops. Her hands land on my waist as she leans in and kisses my cheek. A simple and innocent move that shifts my world.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” I tell her, and then I turn and walk away to my bedroom, where I lock myself in the bathroom to take care of my raging hard-on. My cock hasn’t gotten the memo that she’s off-limits. Stepping in the shower with the hot water flowing all around me, I close my eyes and picture her lips on my neck, her hands on my cock, and then my hands in her hair, and I come whispering her name on my lips.

I debate on a nap, but I choose not to, or else I’ll be fucked tonight. So I walk in search of Erin when I hear pots banging. “Yeah, Mom. You already told me. Sauce then cheese.”

I walk into the kitchen, and she has changed out of her dressy pants into tight yoga pants with a crop top and has her long hair piled on her head. My cock stirs again. She is standing at the counter with chicken in front of her. “Mom, I have to go,” she says when she finally looks up.

“What’s going on?’ I ask, looking at two pots on the stove. Walking over, I see one has just water in it while the other has a tomato sauce that is boiling away and splashing everywhere. I lower the temperature and stir it with the wooden spoon that is on the counter.

“I wanted to do something nice, so I thought I’d make you chicken parm, but I couldn’t really find an easy recipe, so I called my mother,” she says, “and she was going on and on about how to make it, and well, I’m going to wing it and hope for the best.”

“You did all this for me?” I say in shock, looking at this woman who, for the past four days has taken the brunt of my asshole ways, is going out of her way and winging it to make me chicken parm.

“I did it for me, too, but mostly for you,” she says and then cracks an egg in a bowl and then another. “If you want, you can search and see if you can find a recipe that is easy.” I just stare at her as she whisks the eggs and then goes in search of bread crumbs. She finds them and empties the whole bag on the plate and then slices the chicken breast into smaller pieces. “Do you think I need to add salt and pepper before I bread them?” she asks me, and I’m still here staring at her. She has turned the kitchen into a disaster, to say the least, but she has done it for me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. “Carter.”

“Yeah,” I say, blinking at her.

“Salt and pepper. Should I put it on the chicken?” she asks me and uses the back of her hand to scratch her forehead. “I think what’s the worst that can happen, right?”

“I’ll google,” I tell her and go back to get my phone in the room. I have to sit on the bed and get my heart beating regularly. I sit here, and I breathe in and out, and then I see her standing in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” she asks with worry on her face. “You don’t have to eat it.”

“No one has ever cooked for me,” I tell her. “I mean, I think my mother did once upon a time, but then she found that it was easier to pop things into the microwave, and then she used to order my meals.”

“Carter,” she says softly, and I shake my head.

“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I just need a second to process it.”

“Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go?” she asks, and I look at her. This woman pushes my buttons but then brings out something that I didn’t even know was possible. This woman who hands down is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. This woman who tells me to fuck off and then calls me an asshole