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Preview – Hot Holidays

An excerpt from Cupid's Misfire - Hot Holidays Book 3

“I picked up some more chicken nuggets too, if you’d rather them.”

“What? No. This is good.” He grabbed a tortilla and filled it, trying not to get the onions.

“Are you sure? If you don’t like fajitas, I can heat up some nuggets.”

“I like fajitas?” He took a bite. It was good.

“Okay.” She didn’t sound like she believed him.

“Why do you think I don’t like fajitas? I’m eating it right now.” He wasn’t thrilled with the condescending smirk teasing her lips.

“It’s nothing.”

“What?” He put the fajita down on his plate. He knew that look. His sisters used it every time they thought he was being an idiot about something.

“I…I don’t want to fight. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me. Now.”

“Okay.” Her eyes met his across the table. “You eat like a ten-year-old.” She stuffed the last of her fajita into her mouth.

“Me? I eat like a kid. What about you with all your chips?”

“I like snacks, but my meals consist of adult foods.” She began making another fajita. “See. I even eat the vegetables.”

“So do I.” He took another bite of his tortilla.

“Please. I saw you trying to get as few vegetables as possible without actually tossing them back into the pan.”

“I don’t like them when they’re really big but that doesn’t mean I eat like a kid.” A few weeks ago, she didn’t consider him a child.

“Please. Your favorite foods are PB&J, bologna, chicken nuggets and hot dogs.”

“I eat other foods.” He finished his fajita.

“Name one thing that you eat on a regular basis that children don’t.” She took a gulp of her water and then began eating her second fajita.

“Yogurt.” He didn’t have to tell her that it’d taken him years to learn to tolerate the semi-sour taste of it.

“Kids eat that all the time.” She gave him a disgusted look.

“I drink beer.” He picked up his bottle and finished it.

“Kids aren’t allowed to drink beer, or they probably would.”

“I don’t think they’d like the taste.” He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed another one.

“I guess we’ll never know. So, it doesn’t count.”

“I eat salad all the time and that’s almost all vegetables.” He sat back down.

“You smother them in salad dressing like a child.”

Maybe he did eat like a kid. His tastes were simple like his life—work hard, play hard and take care of his family. Those were the rules he lived by and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Anything else.” She wiped her hands and mouth with a napkin. “Or are you going to concede that you eat like a child.” Her smirk pushed him over the edge.

“I’m not conceding anything.”

“Then what do you eat that a kid doesn’t? I dare you to find one thing. Just one.” She leaned forward.

It was time to win this game. “Pussy.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“I love it. As a matter of fact”—his nostrils flared as her eyes darkened with desire—“it’s my favorite dish. Maybe you should serve it to me one day.” He leaned forward. “How about tonight?”