Billionaire's Match (by Tangy Candy) novel Chapter 977

Khloe felt a ticklish brush against her back and turned her head to dodge him, but the corner of her lips betrayed her with a smile. She knew Nick was happy today. These past few days had weighed on him as heavily as on her, yet he'd remained calm and composed—for her.

It seemed the baby had something to say…

"Well, over here… don't disturb me in the kitchen. Tonight, I'm going to show off a little!"

With Nick so clingy, Khloe could only give in.

"Okay."

Finally, he released her.

In the kitchen, Khloe turned and set about her tasks.

Nick, showing a keen sense of timing, helped where he could—handing her ingredients, passing utensils—but whenever an opportunity arose, he'd sneak closer to tease her. Sometimes it was a nuzzle to her cheek, other times a gentle press against her lower back.

Whenever Khloe noticed, he'd flash an innocent look, as if it were purely accidental.

"Nick!"

Frustrated but amused, Khloe raised her spatula, still smeared with sauce, as if to swat him. "Keep fooling around, and there won't be any dinner for you tonight!"

Nick dodged, then reached out to spin her into his arms, pinning her gently against the counter.

"Khloe," he said suddenly, voice soft and warm, "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

The unexpected confession made her heart skip a beat. Her spatula hovered mid-air, and a drip of sauce almost landed on his shoulder. She murmured the words, glancing down just in time to see the stew bubbling over.

"Let go!"

"Khloe," he murmured, "can you say those three words again? I really want to hear them today."

"I love you." Khloe pressed her lips together, obediently repeating the words, then turned her head and left a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Nick, I love you."

The smile in his eyes nearly spilled over. He gently took the spatula from her hand and set it aside, then turned her to face him and traced her lips with his.

Nick's kisses were always tender and confident, able to stir passion yet gentle and precise. Even in the heat of their intimacy, there was a careful softness, a fluid grace.

…

Nearly an hour passed before the meal was ready. By the time the dishes were set on the table, night had fully settled outside.

The table held a modest spread: Arista's remotely guided pork trotter stew, Khloe's stir-fried vegetables, and the steak that Nick insisted on cooking himself—visually unremarkable, yet surprisingly delicious.