“Rice with egg and veggies.”
“Sounds right up my alley.” Honestly, I would have eaten anything. Being here was all that mattered. “Need me to chop anything?”
“No, I’m used to doing it by myself.”
“Most people who live by themselves don’t like to cook.”
“I know, but Mom instilled that habit when we were kids. She always said there was no point spending money on takeout and insisted that cooking is an important life skill.”
“She’s right.”
“Besides, it relaxes me. Can I interest you in wine?”
I clasped my hands together. “You brought back goodies from Napa?”
“You know it.” Grinning, he showed me a small fridge of wine under the counter. “Which one do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
“Your wish is my command,” Griffin said.
The words completely lit me up, and he didn’t even say it in a sexual way.
He took out a bottle of red, then put it back and said, “White! You get headaches from red.”
I smiled wholeheartedly. His comment made me feel seen and heard.
I noticed the wineglasses in the cabinet behind a tinted glass door and took out two. He poured generously in both glasses, and then we clinked them together.
I swirled the liquid lightly, smelling it first. “Oh. My. God!” I closed my eyes, immersing myself in the scent.
“Phoebe,” he growled.
I opened my eyes. He was staring at me with hunger.
“You drive me crazy when you do that.”
“What?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“That sound you make after you smell wine. I want to kiss you senseless every time.”
I brought a hand to my mouth and giggled. I took a sip of the wine, then let out a “Hmm.”
Griffin put his glass down. A second later, I set mine down, too, and then everything faded around us. It was just me and him. He gently took me by my shoulders and kissed me deeper than I’d expected. This kiss was hotter than any other we’d shared so far.
His lips wiped every thought from my mind. When I felt his hands under my ass, I didn’t even question it. I was so lost in him that he could do anything he wanted with me.
After lifting me to the counter, he moved his mouth down my neck and farther to my chest until he reached my dress. Then he straightened, breathing hard. He brought his hands from around my ass to my outer thighs.
“The things you do to me, Phoebe.”
“You’ve been holding back,” I whispered.
“You have no idea. Every single time I’m with you, I want to devour you. And after our night together at the vacation house, I wanted to pounce on you the next day. And on Monday.”
Clearing his throat, he stepped back. “Right. Dinner.”
He gave me back my glass of wine while he focused on the pan.
