One Night with a Hero by Laura Kaye Page B

growling. “Yeah?” She shrugged and busied herself with pouring the batter, this time with chocolate chips mixed in. “What about you?”
    “What?”
    “Any big goals?”
    “Getting promoted to staff sergeant is my goal at the moment.”
    “Oh, yeah? That’s great, Brady. When will you find out?”
    Damn good question . Maybe when Dr. Dolittle gives my head a clean bill of health? “Not sure yet.”
    Joss kept the small talk flowing between them as the plate of waffles stacked up. She was a complete natural at the cooking and the conversation. But the uncertainties Brady’d had about coming over refused to disappear. The more comfortable she made him feel, the more the alarm bells rang.
    Dammit all to hell.
    When was the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal? When was the last time someone had cooked, just for him? Aside from his sister Alyssa and Lily Vieri—his best friend’s mother and Alyssa’s soon-to-be mother-in-law, which was still weird—Brady couldn’t come up with a single instance.
    Couldn’t he just enjoy this, without all the running mental commentary? Fuck’s sake.
    By the time Joss turned the waffle iron off and guided them to the table, Brady was brooding and starving. Maybe if he took care of his gut, he’d shed the dark mood that insisted on clinging. He grabbed his fork.
    “Eager much?” She grinned. “Just teasing. Dig in. It’s fun to have someone else to cook for.”
    He nodded and took half a blueberry and half a chocolate chip waffle. He grabbed for the syrup.
    “Oh, wait. I forgot something.” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bowl of mixed berries and a can of Reddi-wip. “The pièce de résistance .” She waved her hand over the whipped cream.
    “Seriously? Doesn’t that make it dessert?”
    “What? No. That’s crazy talk.” She loaded waffles onto her plate, drizzled on syrup, piled on some berries, and topped it all off with a crown of whipped cream.
    Brady took a sip of coffee to hide an unexpected grin just as Joss swiped her finger through the white confection and stuck it in her mouth, sucking it off without seeming to notice he was watching. Raptly. Any number of sordid images flitted through his brain and the coffee stuck in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit.
    “You okay?” she asked as she dug into her waffles.
    He nodded and set about preparing his breakfast the same way she had. “All right. I’m going to trust you know what you’re talking about here.”
    “Always a good plan.”
    Brady carved his fork through the mound of fruit, cream, and waffle, and took a big bite. He moaned as the flavors burst on his tongue—chocolate, buttermilk, a hint of vanilla, sweet berries, and sweeter cream. “You,” he said pointing his fork at her, “are a waffle goddess.”
    She grinned. “And you are a man with much wisdom.” She cleared her plate, grabbed and prepared another half-waffle, and dug in.
    The urge to return the humored expression tugged at his cheeks. What was it about this woman? Here he was, the morning after , having breakfast with his supposed-to-be- one -night stand. What did he even know about her, really? A gut check called bullshit on that train of thought. He’d actually gotten to know quite a bit about Joss last night. But not everything. Like... “Know what I realized?” he asked, watching her eat.
    “What’s that?”
    “I only know your first name. And since we’re, you know, neighbors and all, I was thinking…”
    Pink crept across her cheeks. A satisfaction he didn’t understand warmed his chest. “Daniels. Joss Daniels,” she said.
    “Joss Daniels,” he murmured. “Is Joss your real name or a nickname?”
    She twisted her lips and nailed him with skeptical gaze. But all Brady could see was the smear of whipped cream on the edge of her lip. He reached over and wiped it off, his groin going tight at the feel of the sticky confection on the soft skin of her lip. “Little bit of