“Plans? Well, I was sort of in the mood to watchGilmore Girls,” he said, reaching casually for a big handful ofpopcorn.
Leslie burst out with a short, surprised laugh and looked up at him. Good grief, he lookeddelicious.Just…good enough to eat: all tall and sturdy, with his dark green eyes settled on her, a glint of humor and warmth in them. And a big wet spot on his dark blue and green diamond-patternedshirt.
“I’d have to make some more popcorn, at the rate you’re going there,” she saidnonchalantly.
“Okay.” He jumped on that immediately, a smile twitching hislips.
“But you have to promise you won’t judge me when you see how much butter I put onit.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s a whole stick, is it?” He was still munchingaway.
Leslie spun away neatly without answering, suddenly ridiculously, crazily lighthearted.Smiling.
“Is it?” he asked again, his tone lilting withlaughter.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked, purposely sounding evasive. “Have you even ever watchedGilmoreGirls?”
“Do I have a teenaged daughter and Netflix?” he replied. “And beer or iced teaworks.”
Leslie poured a scoop of popcorn into the hot air popper and turned to assess him closely. “Then tell me if you’re a Jess or a Logan shipper, and a Luke or a Christopher shipper. Beer’s in the fridge. So’s icedtea.”
“Shipper?”
“You said you had a teenaged daughter. Shipper—meaning, relationship. Who are you rooting for in the relationships with the various Gilmore girls?” She shook her head, arms crossed over her middle. “See, I knew you were making thatup—”
“Jess and Christopher,” he said as he emerged from the fridge with one of the longnecks and the iced tea pitcher. “Jess because he’s misunderstood, and Christopher because he should be with his daughter. And I’m glad you didn’t even put Dean in the mix.” He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, giving her a “so there”look.
“All right, then, you can stay,” she told him, unable to hold back a delighted grin. Partly because he was here, partly because he was acting normally, and partly because…well, he hadn’t asked any of the questions she knew he had. What a guy. “Even if I don’t completely agree withyou.”
“Well, that’s what makes things interesting, isn’t it?” His voice dropped a little. Just enough to send a little frisson of awareness through her. He was watching her with those green eyes…very closely, very steadily, but without demand. Just…letting her know he was noticingher.
And she was certainly noticing him: all warm and bronzy and coppery, with his dark mahogany hair and the generous brush of freckles that made his skin look richer and duskier than a mere tan. The memory of the way his damp shirt clung to the muscles beneath had her mouth going dry. She wanted to touch that skin, feel the slide of those muscles and the warmth of him against her. And she wanted to taste him again. Taste, and lick, and nibble andmore.
Leslie tucked away the delicate flutter in the base of her belly and savored it like a neat little secret as she made the rest of the popcorn. It was nice to have someone here—besides Rufus, anyway—even though she hadn’t thought she wanted anyone around. And it was even nicer that it was someone like Declan, around whom she felt amazingly comfortable andrelaxed.
And even more, it was a blessing that he not only listened and comforted her, but that he wasn’t trying to move them back to where they’d been five days ago—plastered against each other, her butt on the island, handseverywhere.
Not that she wasn’t interested in it, but she appreciated him taking it easy for themoment.
“I’m just starting season three,” she said, drizzling an obscene amount of butter over the popcorn in a shallow twenty-four-inch-wide bowl. “It’s myfavorite.”
“Ah. You must be a Jess shipper, then,” he said, pouring two glasses of iced tea. He winked when she looked at him in surprise. “I told you I watched it! Between that andGlee, Stephanie and I have really done some father-daughterbonding.”
She laughed, but said nothing as she led the way out of the kitchen into her bedroom/office/living roomsuite.
“This is really nice,” he said, looking around. “Verycozy.”
She smiled with delight. “I love this suite so much. It’s really the first time I’ve ever had my own space, designed from top to bottom, if you will. Before, I just moved into an apartment or condo and…well, I didn’t spend the time or energy to make it much of my own. I was too busy working. But since I plan to be here a longtime…”
She looked around, seeing the well-lit space though his eyes. The main room was like a neat, compact library, with a desk and credenza at one end, shelves lining the walls wherever there wasn’t a window, and a sitting area. The last had the most comfortable leather sectional she’d ever known in front of a television that raised and lowered on its own shelf from inside acabinet.
The decor was eclectic, leaning toward spare and professional, with leather seating mixed with glass and mahogany tables and shelves, brightly colored throw pillows and area rug, and some eye-catching artwork. The lighting was fun: fancy and feminine with lots of crystals and unique textured shades, but also functional forwork.
There were two doors leading further into the suite: one to a master bathroom, small but luxurious, and to a postage-stamp-sized bedroom that just fit her queen-sized bed with room to move around it. However, she had a large walk-in closet (the reason the bedroom was so small) that was lined with shelves and organizers. The closet was nearly the size of herbedroom.
“I see you’ve found aroommate.”
Leslie laughed when she realized he was talking about Rufus, who’d made himself extremely comfortable in the exact center of the L of the sectional. “Yes, and you’ll be glad to know he’s been de-flea-ed, considering where he’s chosen to ensconcehimself.”
