“Or I could just fuck your tight little ass every time you bring it up.”
“Orrrr…no conversation for me, no pussy for you.”
And this is why women are superior to us.
Fucking touché.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Berkleigh
“How long have you had the cameras inside my house?”
Tanner huffs a laugh as he continues to slice the steaks with the finesse of a professional chef. “I guess we’re getting straight into it.”
“Yep. I always tell my clients that, no matter how difficult, being upfront and honest with the person they love is the key to their forever.” I toss the salad one final time before serving it on the two clean plates.
It feels like the silence drags on for a little longer than is comfortable and I pause as I realize what just came out of my mouth. My eyes widen and I lift my head, turning in slow motion to look at Tanner. He’s frozen in time, like me, only his expression isn’t one of shock, like mine. Instead, he’s wearing the smirk that I used to hate with a passion, the smirk that I now can’t get enough of, and those deep brown eyes of his are boring into me as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of my face.
“Okay, so I love you. Stop being an asshole about it and answer my question.” Holding his eye contact, I raise my brows in a silent challenge.
His smirk grows as he slides the knife onto the counter and closes the short distance between us, spinning me by the waist, then lifts me, giving me no choice but to wrap my legs around him.
“I already told you that you’re mine, Sweet Bee.” The way he kisses me makes my knees weak and I breathe into it, tangling my fingers into his short hair.
Placing me on the counter, he slides his hands up from my ass to grip my waist as he grinds himself against me. It feels so good…
“No…” I push at his chest and give my best disapproving glare. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Looks like it’s working, too.” I could watch him like this, free and easy, all day long. But there are discussions to be had.
“Plate up the steaks and tell me about the cameras in my house.” Pushing him again, I manage to jump down from the counter and straighten my sweater. He has spent the day distracting me in bed, in the shower, in the hall, and even right here in the kitchen about three hours ago.
Planting a final kiss on my already swollen lips, Tanner grins and finishes plating up our dinner while I pour the wine. It’s all so natural, the way we move around each other as though we’ve been doing this our whole lives.
“Some of them are Viscastive 4k mini camer—”
“You’re being pedantic. I know I said tell me about the cameras, but you know what I mean. How long have you had the cameras in my house?” I take a bite of the steak and hold back my groan as I chew. The man is a master in the kitchen and I swear he has no idea.
“Do you remember the day your Prius broke down on the way home from a conference in the city, when you had to get a motel because the recovery truck couldn’t come out until the next morning?” As though he hasn’t just blown my mind with detailshe shouldn’t know, he begins shoveling food into his mouth, but even that’s still sexy.
“Yeah…” I drag the word out. “But that was like, a week after you moved back here. Years ago.” I feel like I’ve been chewing this current mouthful for too long because he can’t have been spying on me for that long. I’m curious where he’s going with this.
“Good memory.” He grins and I’m just waiting for the “good girl” to come out of his mouth so I can kick him in the nuts. “It was my fault your car broke down, but I did pay the motel you stayed at to make sure there were no guests on either side of your room so you could sleep well.”
“What the fuck?” I slam my fork down and grab my wine glass, finishing what’s left before pouring more. I need it.
“I had to give myself enough time to install the cameras and you nearly woke up the first night I tried. It was my only solution.” He shrugs and shovels more food into his mouth, whereas I think I have lost my appetite.
“I’m going to slide on by how casual you’re being about this and ask a follow up question. Probably a few…” More wine down my throat. “Why would you do that? Because I’m struggling to understand why someone who openly despised me would want to watch me inside my house. Like, what was the purpose in doing that?”
I’m not sure where I thought this conversation was going, but it’s getting deeper than I imagined.
His plate is empty and he leans back in his chair, his own glass of wine in hand as he sighs, thinking about his answer—for a change.
“I don’t know. You’re the psychologist…psychologize it. Eat your dinner.”
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do by asking questions. I’m not a mind reader, I can’t determine your reasoning without anyinsight.” He’s starting to piss me off now, casually swirling his wine in his glass and avoiding eye contact. “I thought you were going to be honest with me about this.”
