Free Wilde Forever (Wilde Women Book 1) by Suzanne Halliday Page A

actually,” she stammered, “lemon chicken was on tonight’s menu.”
    “Well, since you aren’t getting off that sofa anytime soon, I’ll play chef tonight. Everything I need is in the kitchen?”
    “You can cook?”
    “No. I was just fucking with you,” he mocked. “Of course I can cook, Brynn,” he scoffed a second later. “You’ve been hanging out with the wrong men if your surprise is any indication.”
    He was certainly right on that score but not the way he meant. The only so-called ‘men’ in her world consisted of gays, the elderly, and those married to women in her small circle of friends. Hell, the last time she actually went out was with Paul Carter, an easy on the eyes TV foodie-host who had a boyfriend and two four-legged ‘kids’. Not exactly what Jax was referring to but that was all she had.
    “Sorry, my bad. Occupational hazard, I suppose.”
    “You’re forgiven woman,” he teased with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll feed that surly mouth.”
    Oh God. This conversation was about to go from bad to worse.
    “Er, uh… aaarrrggghh ,” she groaned. Brynn knew she was trapped in a corner with no way out. “The freezer is in the kitchen. Open the door and on the middle shelf you’ll find a stack of frozen meals. Grab two, take ‘em out of the carton, pull back the plastic, and throw them in the microwave.”
    His eyes immediately rolled upward as a low bark of laughter burst from his throat. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”
    “Nope. Sorry to disappoint, but after spending all day up to my chin in flour, butter, and eggs, the idea of cooking once I’m home is not exactly enticing.”
    “That processed crap is bad for you.”
    She scowled at him and rolled a shoulder dismissively. “Either that or pizza. Or bakery leftovers and a glass or three of wine. Take your pick.”
    He shook his head and tsk, tsk’ed at her. “So tell me. Are there at least eggs in the fridge?”
    “Undoubtedly,” she replied.
    “Anything that even vaguely resembles fresh produce?”
    “Mm mmm .” She had to think for a moment. “Wait. Yes, there is. I grabbed a head of broccoli and a couple blocks of different cheeses for a new soup recipe I wanted to try out. Oh. And there are all sorts of fresh herbs on the windowsill. There may even be some onions, but I’m not really sure.”
    He picked up the remote control to the TV and tossed it to her. “Amuse yourself while I check out the sorry state of your pantry.”
    “Uh, wait!” she squeaked.
    “What?”
    “Can you hand me that other controller?” she asked, pointing to a big pewter bowl on the coffee table cluttered with controllers and headphones.
    “Jesus. Which one?” he muttered. “You’ve got more technology here than the damn NSA.”
    “Oh, bite me,” she drawled. “The big black one is what I need.”
    He leered at her and hooted a laugh. “Fuck, woman. You’re making me crazy. If you keep setting ‘em up like that I’m going to have to hit at least one out of the park.”
    She frowned and pressed her lips together. What the hell was he talking about?
    Sighing dramatically he snagged the controller she asked for and walked it over to her. He leaned in close and held her eyes, her breath catching as she struggled not to react to his nearness.
    “Bite you? You need a big black one? Need I go on?”
    Well, she had to admit that she’d walked head first into that one. There was no use in trying to hide the embarrassed blush that broke across her face.
    “Oh, shut up Jax,” she snorted. “Mind in the gutter much, h mmmm ?”
    “I could ask you the same thing,” he mocked.
    Pressing a series of buttons on the controller, she turned the TV on and a game system was firing up. “Go putter in the kitchen while I play my game.”
    He looked over his shoulder at the screen as the graphics for Grand Theft Auto appeared. “You are fucking priceless,” Jax muttered as she started the