“Good,” she said. “Because I’m telling the truth. What should we tell your mom?”
“We? We shouldn’t tell her anything. You, however, should tell her the truth. She works for you, I don’t.”
“Which raises a good question. Why? Why are you helping me?” Though she welcomed his advice—she could use all the support she could get—she wondered about his motivations. He’d made it more than clear that he thought of her as a self-indulgent pest, who had commandeered his kitchen and got away with it because she was Wendy Dalton’s high-paying client.
There was a long silence; only the hum of the air-conditioner and the sound of tires swooshing against the pavement.
He finally said, “The sooner your name is cleared, the sooner you can go home. Besides, I’m getting fat with you around.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be out of here faster than you can count to ten.” She threw her head back. “Oh, how I long for civilization.” But honestly, Dry Creek Ranch was beginning to grow on her.
Unfortunately, so was its owner.
“Civilization?” He raised a brow. “I’d hardly call Hell-A civilized.”
He pulled through the open ranch gate, which as long as Gina had lived here had never been closed. She didn’t know why they had a gate in the first place. Maybe it was to keep the animals in. But she’d never seen a cow on this side of the property and the dogs hung out at Jace’s house.
“Right, living in the Clampetts’ old place down by the river is the height of civilization,” she fired back.
“I’d say it’s a sight more civilized than running the paparazzi gauntlet in La-La Land.”
She’d used up all her pithy responses for the day.
“What are you cooking tonight?” His stomach rumbled as he continued up the blacktop road, past Jace and Charlie’s ranch house, to his loft apartment.
“I thought you were watching your girlish figure.” Nothing about Sawyer Dalton’s physique was girlish. Nope, he was all man, right down to his big ’ole cowboy boots. “Anyway, you’re out of luck, bucko. Tonight, I’m hanging out with Aubrey and Charlie.”
“What about that new ice cream maker? I thought we should test it out.”
“I bet you did. Unfortunately for you, I’ll be testing it all by my lonesome at the cabin and bringing it for dessert for our girls’ night.”
He parked her car in his driveway and let the engine idle. “So you’re not coming up?” He said it as if he was disappointed.
“Not today,” she said. “Why, you afraid you’ll miss me?”
He cut the motor and rubbed the bristle on his chin. “Maybe,” he said. “One thing I’ll say about you is that you’re entertaining.”
She turned in her seat to face him. “And my food. Don’t forget you’ll miss my cooking when I go, even if it is making you fat.” She took a slow turn down his T-shirt–covered torso, pausing on his abs. Nope, not an inch of fat on him.
“I guess I could always buy your frozen entrées. Try to choke ’em down.” The light in his blue eyes sparkled. He was enjoying teasing her.
“Then you’ll have your kitchen back.”
“Yep. Can’t wait.” He reached across the console and took off her sunglasses. Next came her hat.
She suddenly felt naked without them. Especially as he sat there, gazing at her face. She started to finger-comb her hair, but he pushed her hand away and held it in his much larger one. Then, he did something completely unexpected.
He leaned in, covered her mouth with his, and kissed her.
For a hard man, his lips were soft. And exquisitely pliant as they moved over hers, roaming until his tongue was licking into her mouth. She opened for him, letting him take the kiss deeper. He tasted good, like heat and desire, and she practically climbed over the center divider for more of him.
But he made it clear he was the one still in the driver’s seat, tilting her head so that he moved over her and controlled the kiss exactly the way he wanted it. And, boy, did Sawyer Dalton know what he was doing. That one hand was still holding hers and the other he’d cradled behind her head. It was his mouth doing all the work. The hot pull of it was enough to make her panties melt.
He took his time exploring and tangling his tongue with hers. She felt his bristle against her face. It tickled. And the musky scent of his aftershave was like a special kind of aphrodisiac. Her nipples tightened and her body tingled. And her hands wanted to fill themselves with him. But when she tried to touch him, he caught her hand and held it still, along with her other one.
It was slow, erotic torture. Just his lips and his tongue, making her temperature rise.
He hummed something low in his throat and lifted his head to look at her, heat simmering in his blue eyes. Once again, he dipped down and caught her mouth for another kiss. Just a short one this time, but sensual just the same.
