Page 21 of This Broken Heart

I introduce the family to spaghetti aglio e olio and you would think I discovered a new continent.

It’s a simple recipe. Oil and garlic. But the kids eat it up like mana from heaven.

Josh watches Trace slurp the last noodle from his plate with awe. “I can never get this kid to eat.”

Apparently, the way to this man’s heart is through his stomach, because I’ve earned enough trust from him to brush the kids’ teeth.

He still puts them to bed, but I would call it a small step in the right direction.

The next morning, I decide to double down on the whole comfort food approach. I set my alarm for an ungodly early time. Creeping into the kitchen, I’m relieved to find that I guessed correctly. I’m the only one who’s awake.

I’m not usually a morning person, but it’s kind of nice to get so much done so early in the day.

There’s a coffee cake in the oven and I’ve just started the coffeepot when Josh ambles into the kitchen. He’s yawning, one hand sleepily rubbing his stomach, but we both freeze when we see each other.

He obviously wasn’t expecting to find anyone in the kitchen.

And I was not prepared to see Josh Olson in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.

Damn.

I already thought he was pretty handsome. I did not need to know how deep that rabbit hole went. The image burns itself into the back of my eyelids. I turn quickly, but it’s already done. I can’t unsee what I saw.

Sexy, tousled bedhead.

And abs. Abs on top of abs.

Good lord. I know that can’t be just from feeding the cattle. This man must work out.

A lot.

But the part that is etched into my retinas, the part that will probably haunt me for the rest of time, is the situation south of that very tempting stomach.

He’s sporting a morning wood.

Not a full staff, or anything, more of a little chubby. A hint of what lies beneath those sweats.

And judging by the general length, little wouldn’t be the right word.

I realize I turned away from him without saying a word. Forcing what I hope to be a neutral expression on my face, I turn back, moving towards the coffee pot.

He’s still rooted to the spot, a mesmerizing bloom of color on his cheekbones. It’s almost good enough to distract from that very generous package down below.

Almost.

My eyes flicking downward, as though my brain needed to confirm we didn’t hallucinate.

Yep, still there.

Still impressive.

14.

Josh

Well, this is awkward.

I stumbled into the kitchen with the intention of drinking a cup of coffee before the rest of the house woke up.