My brain was finally catching up with my body in registering how attractive I found Landen Weber. I stepped into him, our bodies brushing together. “Up until a few weeks ago, I wasn’t sure I liked you very much.” I nearly winced at the bluntness of my words, but Landen leaned into me and I saw the smirk on his lips. He wasn’t offended, so I continued, “But I’ve discovered some new things about you and I like what I’m learning.”
His hand released mine and lifted to cup my bare shoulder, his palm slipping across my back. His other hand joined in and soon he had both palms pressed against my spine, pulling me closer until our bodies were no longer brushing but were plastered together.
“That’s good,” he murmured, his lips skimming mine in that way that I both loved and hated. It felt good but always left me wanting more. “Because I like nearly everything about you.”
Though I wanted to kiss him again, deeper and harder, I asked, “Nearly everything?”
Our faces were close, only a few inches apart, so I saw the smile curve his mouth and light his eyes. It was a good look. “Well, nobody’s perfect.”
I laughed and shoved him back lightly. The sexual tension was still there, simmering but not overwhelming. Landen released me and took my hand in his. “So, are you gonna give me a tour of your house?” I asked.
“Sure.”
He led me to the interior door and hit the button to close the garage. Then he pressed a series of buttons above the knob and I heard the lock click as it opened.
I took in the laundry room-slash-mudroom as we walked through, noting that it was clean and bright, no lint bunnies lurking in the corners like I had in my laundry area at home.
When he pulled me into the kitchen, I nearly gawked. It was gorgeous, huge, and I knew during the daytime it would have amazing natural light from the large windows above the sink and that surrounded the breakfast nook.
The cabinets were black and the countertops were white quartz and sparkling clean. White subway tiles created a backsplash around the kitchen as well. Even the brushed stainless steel appliances were clean, without a single fingerprint or smudge. He even had a six-burner gas stove with two ovens.
It was a dream kitchen for anyone who loved to cook.
“Wow, I love this kitchen. It’s beautiful,” I breathed. Then I turned toward him, “And seriously clean. Do you even use it?”
Landen threw his head back and laughed. “Not as much as I should.”
My eyes narrowed. “So you can cook?”
He nodded. “I can make the basics.”
Feeling feisty, I asked, “And what are the basics?”
“Eggs, roasted chicken, pasta, salad, and a few other things.”
“Really?” I lifted my brows at him. “That sounds like more thanthe basics.”
Landen shook his head as though I amused him. “I’ve been on my own a long time and I didn’t always have the money to eat out, so I had to learn how to cook.” He tugged me into his side and put his arm around my shoulders. “Plus women love a man who can cook.”
“That was a broad generalization,” I commented, nudging him with my elbow. “Some women prefer a man that will take them to nice places.”
He smirked as he glanced down at me. “Well, you’re a woman, so you tell me. Do you like it when a man cooks for you?”
I cocked my head and pretended to think about his question. “I’m not sure. I’ve never had a man cook for me.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “Yes. None of the men I’ve dated ever made me a meal, unless you count a ham sandwich.” I paused before continuing, “Though I think I would like it as long as you didn’t give me food poisoning.”
Landen chuckled and shook his head. “I can manage that.” With his arm still around my shoulders, he walked us out of the kitchen and into the formal dining area. “This is the dining room that I never use.”
I bit back a giggle at his dry delivery. As with the kitchen, the walls were white and a rectangular wood table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by eight chairs. The table was bare but all it needed was a colorful and exotic floral arrangement in the center and the room would look like it had been pulled from the pages of a magazine.
He didn’t stop as he continued on into the entryway. The foyer was spacious and opened up into the living area. The furniture was sleek, modern, but not intimidating.
I was also noticing a theme. The walls in every room so far were white. It was nice, but he needed a bit more color, whether with artwork, rugs, or toss pillows. Something. The overall effect was clean and comfortable, but not warm. It looked like a showroom rather than a home, beautiful but not a place you’d want to sit and stay a while.
He also had an enormous flat-screen television mounted to the wall. It had to be at least seventy inches, probably more. I wanted to laugh at the sight but suppressed the urge.
