She had no idea. Not a fucking clue. Even after insisting I'd wanted to take her home, she still didn't get it. That I was starved for the mere sight of her. "For one, it's a waste of your time and energy," I said, spreading my hands out before me.
Annette flinched, bringing a hand to her chest and rubbing the exposed skin above her heart. "Ouch."
That gesture had the unfortunate consequence of directing my attention to her breasts. Her gorgeous, slightly more than a handful breasts. The ones swaying against the soft fabric of her dress as she rubbed. I wanted to reach in and stroke my thumbs over her nipples. I was damn near salivating at the thought.
"I don't say that to add insult to injury," I continued. "I'm sorry."
Glancing away from me, Annette said, "It's fine. What was two?"
"Two?" I repeated.
"You said wasting my time and energy on Owen was your first point. Surely, there's a second point that you're looking to present. If not, thank you for returning the basket and have a good evening."
Her ankles were obscene. Her hair was soft and wild all at once. Her big, dark eyes were straight out of an animated princess movie. Her dresses launched the filthiest dreams of my life. But it was her mind—the one thing I hadn't been able to watch from my office—that had me twisted ten ways to Tuesday.
"You're right, I do have another point," I admitted. "I don't want you lusting over the lobsterman and I don't want to forget about last night."
Annette's lips parted as she blinked at me. "I don't want any romantic pity," she said. "I don't need it, thank you very much."
"Pity?" I repeated.
She nodded. I shook my head in earnest. She nodded again.
I picked up the forgotten muffin and pointed it toward her. "I'm gonna eat this while I try to make sense of you. I need a quiet moment with the muffin. Okay?"
She rolled her eyes and re-crossed her legs, and I couldn't believe this was the same shy woman who couldn't look at me minutes ago. Or the same seductress who'd pushed the limits of my restraint last night. There was far more to the town sweetheart than I'd realized. And I liked all of it, even if she was driving me mad with this argument.
I bit into the muffin and promptly discovered a new level of ecstasy. "This is fucking amazing," I said around another mouthful. "This is blueberry muffin heaven. It's not even a muffin. It's a blueberry acid trip orgasm."
The scowl and angry glint in her eyes melted, and a warm smile took its place. "Yeah?"
"Fuck yeah," I replied. "Now I understand why the guys went crazy. These things are life altering. It's like I've just now learned what a muffin should be."
Annette threw back her head and laughed at that. "That's a bit much, don't you think?"
I devoured the other half of the muffin and she was quick to set another on the plate. "Not at all," I said. "I'll never again waste my time on inferior muffins. Not when I can knock on your door and beg for more."
She stared at me for a moment and her gaze dropped to my mouth. She started to say something but then pressed her fingertips to her lips and glanced away.
"What?" I asked. "After last night, I think we should be comfortable with each other."
"Easy for you to say," Annette replied. "You were fully clothed."
"Yes, well," I started, shooting her a pointed look, "it sounded as though you got an eyeful of something on your way out. Or did I read that wrong?"
Shrugging, she offered an innocent smile. "Maybe a little something."
"Maybe not so little," I said, leaning back in the chair and manspreading like it was my job. "Whatever you want to tell me, I want to hear."
"You're wearing a suit today," she said, tipping her head toward my navy trousers.
"You like?" I asked between bites.
Her curls rustled as she shook her hair. "It was just an observation. It doesn't matter what I think about your clothing."
"No? Not at all?" I asked as she continued shaking her head. "It matters to me."
She tossed up her hands with a frustrated grumble. "It's not what you usually wear. That's the only reason I brought it up."
