25

Olivia's P.O.V.

Whiffs of minced garlic and herbs pirouetted in the air, circling the sauce set to simmer on the stovetop. Comfort soothes me, and cooking is a sport unto itself-and today would prove no exception.

He leaned his weight against the counter beside me, keeping me company while I fixed dinner, and was telling me about a work trip he would soon be taking. It was a sensation I hadn't had in ages and with him it was almost trivial. Just as though I'd never left Paris in tears

"You're going to have to give me that recipe," Brian said, playing, reaching for the pan.

"You're getting too good at this, Liv."

I smiled soft and slow, his weight balanced enough against the heavy ache in my chest. "Okay, but you'd probably burn the kitchen down."

Brian chuckled. "Probably, but I'd still look good doing it."