I like it.
I get up and go to my closet to grab my robe.
Alex props up and watches me unabashedly.
“How long does banana pudding take to make?”
“A while.” I turn back as I tie the robe around me. I take in the way he looks in my bed, muscles bunched, chest bare. “And I have to confess. The one I make isn’t classic banana pudding.”
His eyes widen. “There are different recipes?”
“Yep. There’s the usual one, and then there are lots of variations. I use rum, coconut, and some different spices in mine. And it takes a few hours to set up.”
He sits all the way up, seemingly oblivious to the fact he’s totally naked. “Do other people in town make different varieties?”
“Yeah. We actually had a banana pudding taste-off a couple of years ago.” I grin. “I won.”
He swings his legs over the side of the bed. “One, never make the pudding for anyone else ever again.”
I laugh. “What? People love my banana pudding.”
He strides over to me, crowding close. “Your banana pudding is now all mine. You can make a different one for everyone else.”
Wow, that’s possessive. And makes me stupidly melty. Especially now that I know he doesn’t like bananathings.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“And two, how long doesregularbanana pudding take?”
I laugh. “The pudding has to set up, so it still takes a couple of hours.”
“Dammit.”
I pick up his boxers and hand them to him. “But I might have some pudding cups that we can make a mock-banana pudding out of. But you have to promise not to tell anyone I did that.”
“That sounds…”
“Terrible?” I supply.
He sighs. “Addictive.”
I grin.
Poor hot, rich, pro hockey player who has particular tastes and people who cater to them all the time.
But I just can’t quite bring myself to be sorry that I’m “ruining” some of his preconceived notions about banana things. And hockey. And small-town Louisiana. And plans in general.
Who knows what else I might make him rethink?
CHAPTER 23
ALEX
It’sfour thirty in the morning when I roll over and kiss Nora’s bare shoulder. She makes a sweet little mumbling sound, but doesn’t open her eyes. I’m glad. I don’t want to wake her, but I can’t spend the night here. Walking into my apartment means walking through the coffee shop where the entire town gathers, starting around six a.m. I need to get there before that.
I dress quietly and slip out her back door, annoyed that I’m not able to lock it behind me.
We are going to have to discuss keys and things.
