Johnny squinted. What did that even mean? “What does that mean?” he blurted.
Daniel smiled. His eyes creased, which did something to Johnny’s chest, and…
Oh. Johnny flushed.
Oblivious, Daniel turned back to his saucepot and licked his lips. “It takes a minute to hit you,” he continued. “The sweetness, then the salt on the sides of your tongue.” His apron hugged his hips, the tie accentuating his trim waist, and-
Jesus Christ, Johnny thought. What the fuck is wrong with me?
