Chapter Forty
FOR THE NEXT three weeks, Trevor and I spent as much time together as we could. When we weren’t making love, we were taking walks, renting movies, or he was teaching me how to cook.
“I have to say, this is a good f*****g omelet,” he said one morning after I’d stayed overnight. I’d made him something called a “Denver Omelet.” I’d found the recipe online. “Your cooking skills have greatly improved.”
“I have a good teacher,” I said, smiling as I poured him another glass of orange juice. His compliment made me giddy, though. I actually enjoyed cooking and wanted to please him. It was a trait I knew had come from my mother. Making her man happy.
He set his fork down on his empty plate and pulled me onto his lap. “This is great, isn’t it?” he whispered, moving my hair to the si
