Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 273

brother

Chapter 273: Penny

I don’t have all the right tools. Half the good knives are still in boxes, buried somewhere in the sea of cardboard that’s taken over the dining room. The colander I need is definitely not in the kitchen, which is how I end up draining pasta with a slotted spoon and a prayer. And I’m pretty sure the only reason this sauce is working is because the gods of butter and garlic have taken mercy on me.

But I’m cooking.

Actually cooking.

I don’t know when I started caring about making meals. Maybe it was after watching Asher cook for me so many times in those early years, with that careful, quiet way of his like making dinner was a battle plan. Everything measured. Precise. Intentional.

I, on the other hand, cook the way I dance.

Wild. Improvised. Messy.

–

There’s flour on the counter, on the floor, on my elbow somehow. There’s a trail of peas across the stovetop like tiny green casualties. My playlist is bouncing between Billie Holiday and 90s pop, and I’ve been singing along loudly, off–key, and with the kind of abandon that only happens when no one else is home.

I glance at the clock. Almost.

I open the fridge and take out a cold bottle of beer one I bought just for tonight – and set it by the stove. Not for me. I’m staying off alcohol for a bit, trying to be good to my knee, my body, everything. But for him. He likes this one. Hasn’t said it, not really, but I’ve watched the way he drinks it slower than the others. That’s how I know.

There’s a song playing – soft guitar, something melancholy and golden- and I hum to it as I stir the sauce and taste–test a piece of the pasta. I close my eyes and smile. Not bad.

I’m just setting the plates on the counter when I hear the key in the door.

A pause.

A breath.

Then

–

it opens.

“Asher?” I call, even though I already know.

Heavy boots on the hardwood, the quiet sigh of the door closing, and then him. Tall, warm, steady. Like coming home

wrapped itself in muscle and kindness and a worn grey T–shirt that hugs his biceps way too well.

He walks in, his eyes sweeping across the chaos of the kitchen

peas.

—

the opened drawers, the random spoons, the mess of

He smiles.

“Baby?” he says, voice already gentle, already amused.

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Chapter 273: Penny

I drop the towel I was drying my hands with and rush over, wrapping my arms around his middle.

His chin rests on the top of my head as he pulls me close.

I breathe him in

cedarwood and the faintest trace of motor oil. He always smells like work, even when he’s off–duty. It’s something about him I’ll never stop loving. That feeling of realness. Of effort.

“I cooked,” I say into his chest.

“I can see that.”

“Don’t judge the mess. I was improvising.”

His lips find my temple. “Mess is good.”

I look up at him and grin.

“Okay, serious question. If we could eat clouds

–

what flavor would they be? And don’t say bubblegum.”

His eyes glint with amusement, like they always do when I say something ridiculous.

“Vanilla bean,” he replies immediately.

I raise an eyebrow.

“That’s a little boring.”

“It’s dependable. Gentle. Sweet. Just like clouds.”

I fake–swoon. “That’s the most romantic answer anyone has ever given about hypothetical food.”

He laughs, then lets go of me long enough to grab the plates. “Let’s eat by the lake.”

I nod, heart thudding with the kind of love that never gets old. I grab the utensils and the napkins because I still haven’t found the cloth ones I packed.

–

–

mismatched ones

We step out into the soft air, and the moment hits me again this place. Our place. The porch still smells like fresh paint. The flowers lining the path to the lake are just starting to open, reaching for the warm dusk. The sky is streaked with pink and lavender. Crickets are just beginning to sing.

We sit on the chairs by the lake, plates balanced on our knees. The water shimmers. Everything is quiet, soft.

We eat.

He groans softly after the first bite.

“Okay, this is insanely good.”

I beam. “You’re just saying that.”

“No. I’m not. I’d eat this every night.”

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Chapter 275: Penny

“Well maybe once I find the rest of the kitchen?

He chuckles, and we fall into that kind of silence that only exists between people who know each other down to the

Then, he says, “No. Paint colors.”

I brighten. “Okay, I was thinking maylie a sage green for the laundry room. Light, peaceful. And maybe deep nary for the den.”

“Asher’s color,” he smirks.

“Exactly.”

“And the guest rooms?”

We both pause.

My eyes meet his, “We need to think about who will be staying over the most,”

“Rooster will probably crash here every time he and Anna fight,” Asher says with a smirk.

“So we give them the one with the big bed and blackout curtains.”

“And Mila and Boomer?”

“They get the one with the sunrise view. She likes waking up early for yoga, and he’ll pretend to hate it but secretly love

it.”

“And Max?”

We both laugh.

“He needs soundproofing.”

“Desperately.”

“And maybe a lava lamp.”

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