“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and scooped her up, startling her into laughter as he carried her across the room to the bed and dropped her onto it.
She scrambled under the covers, the cold air causing gooseflesh to rise—she was a little bit nervous now that the wave of mindless lust had receded. What did he think now that he’d seen all of her—her soft belly, her thighs, which, although they were nicely shaped, would never be called slender? She’d never wanted to be a ballerina, to use the term he’d invented, but she was aware that she deviated a bit from what most men would consider ideal. He’d gone back to his clothes. She didn’t expect him to stay the night, but was he really going to leave now?
“Ah,” he said, hand emerging from where it had been rifling through his jeans pocket. He’d fished out his phone. The alcove that held the bed was exactly sized to accommodate the double mattress, so getting into bed meant mounting it from the foot. He hurled himself up and executed a belly flop that made her laugh and roll out of the way.
He scrolled through his phone. “Still hungry, I presume?”
“I could eat an entire cow,” she declared. It was true. She started thinking about what she had in the house.
He put the phone to his ear. “Hi. I’d like to order a pizza for delivery.” Mmmm. Pizza sounded perfect. He rattled off her address. “Extra large. Now, might you have a pizza that comes with an entire cow?” She threw a pillow at him. “No? Really?” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “Amateurs. What do you want?”
“Pepperoni,” she said. “And mushrooms.”
He repeated her preferences into the phone. “And extra cheese?” He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly and she nodded. “Anything else?” he whispered. “Salad?”
She shook her head.
“Good girl,” he said. “Tiramisu?”
“Yes!”
She burrowed under the covers and watched him complete the transaction. After he threw his phone aside, he turned and narrowed his eyes at her. “There’s good news and bad news.”
“Well, let’s have the bad first—isn’t that how you’re supposed to do it?”
“They’re not going to be here for an hour—Saturday night rush.”
“And the good news?”
He grinned. “They’re not going to be here for an hour.”
…
Cassie came twice more before the pizza arrived. Their initial encounter against the door had been hot—Christ, it had nearly left him with third degree burns—but his masculine pride required him to demonstrate that he wasn’t usually so…hasty.
She tucked into the pizza the same way she did everything, with total abandon. It didn’t matter if she was devouring pepperoni and mushrooms with extra cheese, diving into Winter Enterprises’ fall returns, or, God help him, driving her ass up the better to meet his thrusts—she was all there.
When they were both sprawled back against the pillows post-pizza, he said, “So, math.” There was more there, he knew it.
“Again? You say it like you don’t believe it.” She was using her index finger to scoop out the last of the whipped cream from the Styrofoam container that had held the tiramisu.
“It’s not your abilities I’m questioning. It’s your motivation.”
“Excuse me?”
She was getting indignant. It suited her—she looked good when she turned pink. But he truly wanted to know, so he clarified. “Don’t take offense. You just don’t seem boring enough to be an actuary.”
His observation caused her to let loose a giant theatrical sigh as she fell back on the disheveled bed. “I know.”
Well. He’d been prepared for a whole host of reactions, but uncomplicated agreement had not been among them.
She blew out another breath, this one with her lower lip protruding, so the exhale blew a little wind through her hair. “I told you, though, it’s about the money.”
“You don’t seem like a person who’s motivated by money.” Then he thought of the whole absurd situation they were in. “Present circumstances excluded.”
She grinned. Damn, he kept thinking he was going to offend her and she just kept agreeing with him.
“It is boring. I dread it, in fact. I could take the exam any time, but I keep putting it off.”
“So why do it?”
“I have this idea…”
“What?”
“It’s stupid.”
“I’ll bet you anything it’s not. It may be a lot of things, but if it came out of your head, stupid isn’t one of them.”