Surviving Love (LarssonSiblingSeries#6)

CHAPTER EIGHT

LAINE

Molton Lava just entered my mouth. Not literally, of course, but in the form of Theo's special chilli sauce. It contains a mixture of chillies, apparently. Scotch bonnet, jalapeño, and cayenne.

I cough into my hand. "You put that on your chicken salad?"

Theo grins. "Yeah."

I'm starting to regret my fighting talk about being able to handle spicy stuff. It feels like the top layers of skin on my tongue are peeling off.

I squeak out. "Okay, then."

"You can't handle it?" he replies with an innocent look on his face.

My lips roll together when the tingles spread to them. "Oh, no, I can handle it."

Of course, competitive Laine is coming out to play. Time, and place, girl, time and place.

Theo gives me a one-shouldered shrug as he goes back to chopping the cucumber. "Your choice."

I use this time to check my makeup in the mirror that sits near the kitchen door. It's been a long while since foundation touched my skin, but I'm happy with the outcome of it. There's a glow to my skin that just can't be achieved on its own.

"Laine," he says, having to clear his voice after.

I turn to see him staring at me. "Drink?"

My feet take me back to my previous place near the big fridge. "Please."

Theo puts down the knife to stroll over to other end of the kitchen where he opens a cupboard to reveal a bunch of drinks. "Take your pick."

"Diet Coke, please." Even though the cherry Coke is calling out to me.

He grabs a can before getting me a tall glass to pour it in to. The bubbles almost come over the top. "Here."

My fingers brush against his when he gives the glass over to me, and I'm well aware of the strange sensation running up my arm. I yank back fast enough to send the glass hurtling to the floor, staining my cream jeans in the process.

"I'm sorry," I yell, crouching down at the same time as he does to collect the shards on the floor.

Theo holds his hands up. "Careful."

I raise to my feet. "My hand twitched out of nowhere. I'm sorry, Theo."

He stands up to put the shards into the sink. "It's okay."

"I can be a bit jumpy sometimes," I whisper, fighting the thickness in my chest.

It takes him no time to wipe up the excess on the floor with a dishcloth. "It's cool. Honest."

There's a squawking coming from his phone to warn that the chicken is cooked. I help by grabbing the thick gloves while he pulls down the oven door. It smells wonderful as an aroma like no-other hits me, and spreads into the air around us. It's smoky, and sweet with a hit of citrus.

Theo points to the wooden chopping board near the sink. "Here, will do."

"It smells so good. Am I allowed to know the ingredients to the marinade?" I say on a small smile.

"Secret," he replies with an even smaller smile, almost shyly.

"Fair enough. I really hope it tastes as good as it smells, because I'm drooling already."

He's working this kitchen like a pro as he runs a kitchen knife along a sharper. When he's done with it, he puts the now shining knife aside to sign to me. "It won't disappoint. It's my mum's recipe. The spices are a mixture of everything she had in the cupboard at the time. It's now famous in our neighbourhood."