“You cook?”  He seemed surprised. She shoved her glasses up on her nose, and hooked her hair back over her ear.  “My grandmother grew up on a farm outside Dallas.  She was a fantastic cook.  She raised me, so yes, I like to cook.”  She smiled.  “I’m really good at it.” A low groan slipped from Jax’s throat.  “What if we stop at the store and pick up whatever you need?” She laughed.  “We don’t have to do that.  I keep a lot of stuff in the pantry.  I can make pasta or something.  Do you like Italian?” “Hell, yes.” She smiled.  “I’ll make a salad to go with it and we’ll be fine.” Except that when Mindy unlocked her front door and Jax shoved it open, thoughts of supper shot right out the window.  The entire apartment looked as if an earthquake or a tornado had totaled the place. *** “Oh, my God!” Jax’s HK.45 slid easily out of its holster.   “Stay here.”  He started forward, the gun gripped in both hands, panning the living room for any sign the intruders might still be there. “Oh, God, Muffin!”  Mindy bolted forward, but Jax’s arm shot out, blocking her way….