Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 191

Chapter 191

The kitchen smelled like garlic and olive oil–comfort, the kind of scent that promised a med worth waiting for men if the cook was winging it.

国

Nico leaned against the counter, flicking a wonden spoon through the sauce like he had some ancestral right to it. Truth was, he’d learned to cook out of necessity. Dan burned water, Gino treated food like fuel, and Enzo… well, Enzo didn’t cook. The man could order a Michelin–star feast without blinking, but chopping onions? Forget it

ere Nice was, sleeves rolled up, apron hanging crooked, pretending the sizzling pan meant he had everything under control.

so here

The truth? He was nervous

Not the kind of nervous that made his hands shake–he’d been in enough shootouts for that. This was quieter. Sharper. The awareness that he was about to sit across from Lola, just the two of them, no Enzo, no crew, no buffer.

The door creaked open.

Smells good in here,” she called, voice warm, teasing.

braid over one shoulder, hoodie swallowing her frame. No armor, no Nico turned, and there she was barefoot, hair pulled into a messy sparkly distractions, Just Lola. And fuck if that didn’t hit harder than anything.

“You’re early,” he said, trying for casual.

She hopped onto the counter, swinging her legs like a kid who’d gotten away with something. “You said dinner, I heard dinner. Didn’t say fashionably late was required.”

Nico smirked. “That’s a first. Thought you were

e genetically incapable of being on time.”

“Ha–ha.” She stole a piece of bread from the counter, tearing it in half, “What are we having? And don’t say barnt pasta, because I can smell that’s not true.”

He wagged the spoon at her. “It’s not burnt. It’s rustic.”

She grinned around her bite of bread. “Rustic, huh? Fancy

y word for edible chaos?”

“You’d know.”

Her laugh bubbled out, easy and real, and Nico felt the knot in his

chest

loosen.

They ate at the small table by the window, city lights spilling in like a backdrop meant for this exact moment. A cracked candle nickered between them–Lola had insisted on lighting it, saying it made dinner taste more “official.”

She twirled her pasta, pointing her fork at him. “Okay, confession. I didn’t think you could cook. I thought you were more of a…. shake–and–chicken–breast kind of guy.”

protein-

He chuckled. “What, like a gym bro?–

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11:25 Thu, Oct 9

Chapter 191

“Exactly. The kind that meal preps in plastic containers and yells about macros.

“Do I look like a guy who vells about macros?”

20

She tilted her head, pretending to study him. “Hum. No. But you do look like the kind of guy who owns a cast–iron skillet and won’t shut up about inTM

He pointed his fork right back at her. “Guilty. Cast Iron’s a lifestyle.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, tucking another bite in. “Of course it is.”

Conversation flowed. She told him about her worst tatton clients, reenacting their requests with hand gestures that nearly knocked over her glass. He told her about a fight he’d gotten into as a kid for stealing cannoli from a bakery. She teased him for being predictable. He teased her for being impossible. Every laugh, every quick glance–it stitched something in place inside him that had been loose for years.

He realized halfway through the meal that he wasn’t really eating–just watching her, soaking in the way she talked with her hands, the curve of her mouth, the way the city lights caught in her eyes.

“You’re staring,” she said suddenly, fork frozen midair.

Nico blinked, caught. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

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