Free Sleeping With the Opposition (Bad Boy Bosses) by J. K. Coi Page B

giving him a few pointers about the types of foods that went well together and the building blocks for a really good soup. Every time he shifted to grab something, he brushed her arm or her hip, or he reached around her for the salt shaker, and she was enveloped by the subtle, familiar scent of him. She was warm, but it wasn’t the heat from the stove putting the flush in her cheeks.
    “Where did you learn this stuff?” Leo asked, swiping sliced carrots and celery from the cutting board into the big pot. It was funny that this was yet another thing they hadn’t really spent much time doing together since they’d been married, but they were doing it today. With their busy schedules, they’d mostly eaten takeout or at Russo’s because it was quick and easy, and when Bria had cooked, she’d usually pushed Leo out of the kitchen to go and work because she’d said it didn’t make sense for both of them to waste the billable hours.
    “While my mother was studying for her CPA when I was a kid, she pretty much raised me on peanut butter and jelly and mac and cheese, but when she married Frank and decided to stay home, she learned to cook, and I guess I learned mostly by watching her,” she said. “But I’ve always wanted to take some classes, actually.”
    “It’s kind of fun.” His grin made her insides melt. “Don’t be surprised if you see me across the classroom one of these days.”
    Her gut clenched at the casual acceptance in his tone, at the implication that they wouldn’t be taking the classes together. Maybe he’d even be there with someone else.
    This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For him to embrace the inevitable without a nasty fight? Then why did it feel like the bottom was dropping out of her world?
    Twenty minutes later, the pot was full and starting to bubble. Leo cracked some more pepper into it before putting the lid on. “Look at that,” he said, proud of himself. “We both tried something new today, by learning from the other.”
    She huffed, afraid of admitting that he was right, or that she’d had a good time today, and that he’d made her forget about the other things for a little while.
    Theirs had been a whirlwind office romance that had never really left the office. They’d worked together, brought that work home every night, and when they weren’t working—or having mind-blowing sex—they’d tended to go their separate ways. For Leo that usually meant going to his boxing club, while Bria would go running in the park, or shopping, or reading in the window seat upstairs in her room.
    It was strange to think that they’d been through so much heartache together, and yet there were still these basic things about Leo that she didn’t know, like how great he was at fixing a tile floor and that he wanted to learn how to cook. Don’t you owe it to yourself to really know what you’re giving up, before it’s gone forever?
    “We can check on the soup in about an hour,” she said, fighting against a sudden lump in her throat.
    He followed her into the office, where she rummaged through the desk drawer to find a pad of sticky notes. “What’s that for?” he asked.
    She handed him half the pad and a pen. “We’ll put our names on the sticky notes and place them on things we want to claim for our own. Then, if there’s anything that has both of our names on it, we’ll negotiate to see who gets it.”
    He tossed the notes back on the desk with a shrug. “That’s easy. I don’t want any of it.”
    “What? That’s ridiculous,” she said. “What about this desk? You love this desk.” She pointed to it.
    His eyes flared, and he stalked forward. She retreated a step until her ass hit the edge of the very same desk. “Everything is here because it belongs in this house ,” he said. “Because it belongs to us. You want to know why I love this desk? Because I can’t sit behind it without thinking about the day we brought it home.”
    She blushed, remembering. “It’s