Part 10 (1/2)
Just two people having dinner.
Okay, two people who wanted to screw each other senseless having dinner.
He ran a hand over his face. What a mess. His stay in Jessamine wasn't permanent, not now... and not for at least the next ten years. Harper had to know that. She had to.
G.o.d help him if she didn't, because he couldn't take her sadness. It physically pained him to see the hurt in her eyes. The disappointment in him like what he'd witnessed this afternoon.
To complicate further, Finley had shared that his pursuit for a better public image was going better than expected. Women could relate to Harper, and men found her attractive. Sure, there were always haters, but he made it a policy to never read the comments, not even on Instagram, because they were starting to invade that s.p.a.ce as well.
Too bad they couldn't confine themselves to Facebook and Twitter.
As for the Kryzowskis and the ridiculous rumors they'd spread of him coming aboard to play for them... it was pure bulls.h.i.+t. Yet, Finley had almost believed it. Yeah, the Kryzowskis had a more established franchise, but to move out West wasn't what he wanted to do.
”Dinner with Harper it is,” he said. He pulled out his phone with the intent to text his sister-in-law, Bailey, to get some food delivered. She and his brother, Lucas, owned Yates' diner and had the best food in town.
Except... he wanted to do more than get take-out.
Searching Harper's well-stocked pantry and fridge, he found some steaks and potatoes. She had a grill out back, and he could bake the potatoes. Yeah, it was a standard guy meal, but he had an ace in his sleeve. Well, if Harper had the ingredients he needed.
An hour later, Harper emerged from the bedroom, her hair messy and her eyes wide and bemused as their gazes collided. He wasn't sure why. Although, he was wearing one of her ap.r.o.ns, a frilly pink and brown thing covered in amoebas. He was pretty sure that amoeba wasn't the right term, but it was all he could come up with.
”Sorry, I fell asleep,” she said, her hands going to her hair and patting it down some.
”Don't be sorry. It's good for my ego to know what I did to you wore you out,” he said with a teasing grin and she blushed.
Her light gaze bounced from him to her kitchen, more specifically, to the island in the kitchen. ”You cooked?”
”Don't look so shocked,” he said, although he was very much enjoying the adorably shocked look on her face. ”My parents made all of us boys learn how to cook.”
”I'm not shocked you cooked.” She licked her lips, and then looked back at him. ”I'm shocked you're still here.”
”Was I supposed to leave?”
Shrugging, Harper shook her head. ”I don't know.”
Libby got up from her spot by the fireplace and walked up to Harper, tail wagging. ”I let her outside for you, and then she decided to hang out with me. We're besties now.”
A smile quirked on her lips. ”Are you?”
”Yeah.” He grabbed a gla.s.s of iced tea he'd made for himself and handed it to Harper instead. ”Make yourself comfortable, and I'll serve you.”
”Again?” Her face heated, and she took a drink of her tea. An extra long drink of her tea, he noticed.
”You are mighty flirty tonight.”
”I haven't woken up all the way.”
She was such a s.e.xy, little liar. ”Hopefully, dinner will do the trick. If that doesn't, then my homemade, no-bake cheesecake will entice you into staying up long enough to watch Undercover Boss with me.”
This time, her mouth dropped open. ”You made a cheesecake?”
”I did.”
”Not your sister-in-law?”
”Nope.” Grabbing her by the shoulders, he steered her to into the breakfast nook and to the closest chair. ”Sit and eat before I get so insulted by your lack of faith in my culinary skills that I have to take drastic measures.”
As she sat down, he hit the Pandora app on his phone and country music began to play, filling the room with sounds of Sam Hunt.
”Didn't take you for a country music guy,” she said as he sat in the chair closet to her.
”I like all music.”
She glanced from her gla.s.s to his place at the table. ”This wasn't for me, was it?”
”No, but you looked thirsty and I can fix myself another.” He leaned in close. ”Don't worry, I don't have anything that's catching.”
She pressed her lips together. He got up from the table and poured himself some iced tea as well.
”Wasn't sure how you liked your steak, so I went with medium,” he said as he sat down once again.
”Honestly, since you took the time to make dinner, I'd eat the steak raw or burnt to a crisp.”
”Aren't you easy to please?”
”Wouldn't you be, if someone made you dinner?” she asked, but then shook her head. ”You probably have women beating down your door to make dinner for you.”
”They're beating down my door for entirely different reasons.”
”Do you let them in?” she asked.
He gazed into her eyes. ”No.”
”Do you let anyone in... ever?”
”Do you?”
”No.”
He picked up her hand and laced his fingers through it. Standing, he pulled her up with him. ”I think we need to dance this one out.”
”Not talk?” she asked, laying her head against his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
”We let our words get in the way.”
They swayed as one as a different singer crooned about unexpected chances at love. Harper was a short woman, so short that he could rest his chin on the top of her head. Normally, he preferred a tall woman, one that was easy to kiss or take against the wall. Except he'd lifted Harper with ease and f.u.c.king loved how she'd clung to him while he walked across her floor.
He could still feel her pink tongue on him, licking and tasting his body as her inquisitive hands roamed all over him. Best of all, he couldn't get the taste of her out of his mouth. Couldn't get the sounds of her pleasure, of her moans and screaming his name... out of his head. It was f.u.c.king music to his ears.
Involuntarily, his arms tightened around her, his c.o.c.k grew hard, and soon, it became difficult to dance without rubbing up against her.