“I don’t need to, damn it,” he said, his easy, devil-may-care attitude slipping for the first time. “And who the hell said the bad things stopped when I came home? You yourself pointed out how much of a selfish asshole I’ve been, wasting away with booze and women. Do you think those women I fucked and forgot think I’m a good guy? Do you think I am, after last night?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I initiated what happened last night. I wasn’t some victim you have to make penance for, so stop trying to make me out to be one.”
“Shit.” He gripped the spoon tighter, breathing heavily. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to remember exactly why a guy like me shouldn’t be with a girl like you.”
“Wait, what?” Her heart traitorously picked up speed. “Do you…do you want to be with me again?”
He stared at her, his jaw flexing. “Do I ever?”
“No.” She swallowed, cursing herself for even thinking he might be saying that. Way to make herself look like a fool. Plastering on a smile, she added, “But that doesn’t make you a bad guy. It just makes you one who doesn’t want a relationship. Not everyone does.”
Slowly, oh so slowly, he turned her way. His hazel gaze blazed with…need? No, that couldn’t be right. Not after what he just said. So why was he looking at her like that?
Uncomfortable with the silence, she blurted out, “You can stop stirring now. It’s done. Uh, good job.”
He set the spoon down beside the bowl. When he turned her way again, any sign of desire was gone. “What do you want me to do next?” he asked, his voice low.
Take me, right here, on the counter.
Running his hand through his hair, he leaned on the counter. He was so sexy, standing there, all hard muscles and bedroom eyes. He wore a tight-fitting blue T-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans that hugged him in all the right places. The cross tattoo on his arm stretched and moved as he moved his fingers through his thick hair.
And even though he stood there, not even making a move toward her, it felt like he was seducing. She licked her lips. “Uh…”
“It’s not a trick question.” He smirked, which should have annoyed her, but didn’t. “I stirred it, so now I—?”
“Grease the pan, covering the whole bottom,” she blurted out. “That’s what you do. And make sure you do it thoroughly.”
“Okay,” he said, the smirk widening. “I’m nothing if not thorough when it comes to getting stuff nice and lubricated.”
Yeah. She learned that up close and personal last night, thank you very much. “Uh…yeah. Great.”
Picking up the pan, he wiggled it under her nose. His all too familiar cologne teased her senses, which didn’t help her much when it came to resisting the urges he brought out in her. Especially after last night. “This one?”
She nodded and checked the temperature.
Since she didn’t have anything to say, she said nothing at all. He approached, stopping directly behind her. He stood a respectable distance from her, no different than he would have done on any other occasion, but since she bent over to check the oven, it was…
Too close.
He was too close.
“Done.”
“Now we put it in and bake it.” She walked to the counter and made quick work of filling the pan. The whole time, he watched her in silence. By the time she was finished and put it in the oven, she was on edge and a little bit uneasy. She set the timer and turned around, dusting her hands off, and smiled even though the forced cheerfulness hurt her cheeks. “Okay. Now I’ll—”
Turned out, facing him was a huge mistake. He was so close she had to step back to look up at him. But there was nowhere to go, so her butt hit the handle of the oven. She stumbled a little, resting her hands on his chest, and he gripped her biceps to help steady her. “Oops. Sorry. So sorry.”
“It’s fine.” The second he grabbed her, all secure and tight, her stomach tightened and her breath quickened, so she instinctively reared away. He frowned. “Are you scared to touch me now?”
“N-No.” Her cheeks heated. “Of course not. We’re fine. I’m fine. Are you fine?”
“Of course,” he said, running his thumbs over her skin, and his deep hazel eyes pulled her under his spell. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He searched her face for something. Something she wasn’t sure he would find. “You’re acting weird. Like you’re scared to be near me, or of me, even.”