Everywhere and Every Way(73)
Time to find out.
Cal barely restrained himself from licking his chops like the Big Bad Wolf. His body pounded with sexual energy, though he tried to leash it in. “Why don’t we discuss it over dessert?”
Morgan stilled. Scenting danger in the air, she ducked her head and pretended to study a dusty beveled glass mirror. “It’s late. I should go.”
His nostrils flared with the thrill of pursuit. “Not without helping me eat some banana cream pie. I’ll put on coffee, too.”
His tone brooked no argument. She hesitated, dragging her feet, then seemed to give herself a mental pep talk. “Okay. A tiny slice. It’s late.”
“Yes, you said that.” He didn’t try to take her hand this time, allowing her the space. The dogs danced around them, occasionally stopping to investigate a scent or sound, making sure their temporary mistress was safe from Jason or Freddy. Morgan seemed to tense a notch tighter with every step. When was the last time he had to work to seduce a woman?
Hmm. That would be never. It was more fun than he ever imagined.
Cal busied himself in the kitchen cutting pie and pouring two cups of coffee. She perched on the stool at the marble island with one foot dangling toward the floor, as if planning a quick escape. He smothered a grin and forked up some fresh cream and ripe fruit. It was pure sugar heaven in his veins.
“I love pie,” he managed in between bites. “How’d you know?”
She smiled and looked as happy as he was. “Didn’t. Good guess. You seem like a pie sort of guy.”
“All-American?”
She tilted her head. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Why?”
Her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. Her blouse slid slowly down, giving him a great view. “You have all the trappings. Dogs. A successful family business. You build things instead of making a living pushing paper. You have the American flag in front of your house. And you talk well about your mom.”
He licked the fork and considered. “Sounds solid. Must mean I’m trustworthy.”
“Yes.” The word came out with a touch of wariness.
He propped his elbows on the counter and leaned in. “And that means I always get the girl.”
She pursed her lips and slid her plate away. “Not necessarily. It means you have patience, take your time, and are always a gentleman.”
“Two out of three ain’t bad,” he drawled.
Her eyes widened, but she rallied. “Oh, I forgot the last quality. You’re nice.”
Cal chuckled. The way she emphasized the word was a direct challenge. “I heard nice guys finish last. I like to come in first.”
“That ridiculous philosophy was constructed by a bunch of popular teenage girls who got obsessed with the bad-boy phenomenon. They weren’t mature enough to see that emotional torture and pain does not reflect success in relationships. Nice guys get the real women because they have staying power.”
“You date a lot of nice guys, Morgan?”
Her gaze dropped as if she needed distance. “Sure.”
“Any of them finish first with you?”
She jerked back. A flash of temper lit her eyes. “Yes,” she snapped. “In fact, I only date nice men. I’m past my experimental, yes-sir-may-I-have-another phase. I don’t like games or cheaters or liars. I don’t like men who have a Peter Pan syndrome or men who just want another notch in their bedpost.”
“Doesn’t leave much territory open, does it?”
She tightened her lips and stared at him hard. “Making fun of me?”
“Never.”
“Good. I think it’s time I say good night. Thank you for cooking. Thank you for the lovely evening.”
She was so proper and adorable, he couldn’t stop her. Yet. “You’re welcome.”
Morgan slid off the stool, took her plate and fork to the sink, and rinsed her hands. “Will you let me know what happened with the inspector tomorrow after speaking with Dalton?”
“Absolutely.”
She nodded and spun on her very smart kitten heel, making her way to the foyer. The dogs leaped from their beds to give her a hearty send-off. She knelt down, hugging each of them with an open affection that made him smile. This was a woman who needed more in her life. More friends. More animals.
More . . . sex.
Her smile was nervous and forced. “Thanks again.”
“Morgan?”
Her hand paused on the knob. “Yes?”
“What about my kiss?”
A tiny gasp burst from her lips. Cal straightened to his full height, slowly moving forward to close the distance between them. Her hand fell away from the door, and her back pressed against the hard frame. Stealing her space, he bracketed her body with his thighs, feet braced, hands on each side of her head so she was trapped. The leashed sexual tension between them whipped to life, and Cal soaked in the waves of old-fashioned lust and hunger between man and woman. An ancient dance that would never go extinct. His dick swelled, and his skin grew hot and tight, and Cal scented the heady smell of female arousal. Oh, yeah. Morgan Raines was not feeling very nice herself at this moment.