“There’s an herb garden over there.” He tilts his chin toward a side door I didn’t notice before. “Picked out some seeds and planted them on a whim. Now they’re growing like weeds.”
I blink slowly. The image of him squatting down in the dirt and messing around with seeds and fertilizer and all the things that go with gardening is just… It simply doesn’t fit his whole killer lawyer vibe. I tried to start a small garden in a box on my balcony, thinking it’d be great to have fresh herbs and save a little money. More than half the stuff I planted died, including the green onions that my nice Asian neighbor said would outlive me.
He puts the plates on the counter, then stretches his arms up for two long-stem glasses hanging upside down from a rack above his head. His muscles stretch across his massive ribcage, the triceps and biceps flexing and sliding. As the stems come free from the rack, he deftly turns them and cups the bowls in his large palms, holding them in front of him.
What would it be like if he held my breasts like that?
My nipples suddenly ache at the thought. I try to shake it off, but the tingling lingers.ThankGodI put on a bra.No need to point my headlights at the man who’s just doing his…morning kindness of feeding me eggs.
“I made some agua fresca de maracuyá,” Josh says. “Basically, a passion fruit drink. Used some ripe ones from the garden, and here are some more if you want to try the fruit itself.” He gestures at some half-cut deep purple fruit, thenpours a pulpy, yellowish liquid into the stemware and extends a glass to me.
I stare at the drink, his beautiful hand and the bare arm stretched toward me. My gaze travels to his face, the stunning lines that blend to create an absolutely mesmerizing masculinity. His eyes are too warm, too captivating, as he studies me.
Suddenly, it doesn’t seem real. Things like this don’t happen to somebody like me. I thought this was like Cinderella’s ball before the stroke of midnight, but it’s still too good to be true.
“By the way, Klein?”
“Yes?” I say, unable to look away from him.
He lowers the glass to the counter and pushes it toward me. “Regardless of what you might’ve been told or think about yourself, you’re a beautiful person who deserveseverythingyou desire.”
Chapter Thirty
Ailee
Two weeks later, my face heats as I scarf down my breakfast. Something’s definitely been up with Josh since the dinner at his parents’ place. Thankfully, the dealer finally replaced my fob, so I leave the house as soon as I finish eating. It’s either that or jump him or do something seriously inappropriate. Hopefully I was subtle. I tried really hard to avoid staring.
You’re a beautiful person who deserves everything you desire.
Two weeks since he said it, and I’ve been going a little crazy because my heart won’t quit racing every time it pops into my head—which is every time I see him, whether it’s in the office or at home.
If I didn’t know better, I might’ve thought he was trying to…well, court me. A homemade breakfast. The display of his magnificent body. The gray sweatpants and thatoutline…
I fan myself, trying to come up with an alternate explanation. Josh was probably just being comfortable in his house. He’s entitled to chill on weekends, including going topless. Right?
Yeah, your exes only did that when they wanted to get lucky,an internal voice reminds me.
But Josh wasn’t aiming for any horizontal action.
Because a kitchen’s more suitable forverticalaction. Like against a counter. Or bent-over actionovera counter.Or the brace-your-hands-against-the-counter-and-stick-your-ass-out…
Okay, now the voice sounds awfully like Max. I’m definitely muting it.
I tap the steering wheel as I drive to Target. The insurance is taking its sweet time with the claim I filed, and the same thing with the property manager, who likely wants to hold on to our security deposit as long as legally possible. At least Max and I aren’t in urgent need of a place. She’s still being dragged around the world by her boss, and she texts me from time to time to whine, swearing she’s going to quit as soon as she finds a position that pays as well as her current one.
I frown, wondering about the roommate situation when she’s finally back in town. Should I continue to share a place with her and pay half the rent? After all, I’m going to need to have to move out in about six months—actually less than that now. Max and I get along great, and I’d hate to leave her high and dry. And having to struggle to find a new roommate when the engagement is over seems…overwhelming.
I park my car in the lot and head inside the huge store. Josh’s place has everything I need, so I’m just here to browse the books. This location is one of my favorites because it has a great selection of romance novels. I love reading on my phone and Kindle, but sometimes I just want the heft of a print book in my lap. Plus, the reading nook in my room is so perfect, I have this yen to curl up with a nice special edition and lose myself in the story. That should give me something to occupy my time, instead of drooling over the memories of Josh’s abs or thinking about what to do about a new apartment.
One of the nicest things about living with Josh is that I don’t have to do any housework. No cleaning, no laundry, no grocery shopping or cooking. I didn’t realize until I no longer had to do any chores how much time those things take up. But that alsomeans I have way too much idle time to obsess about him. I still can’t get used to wearing his ring. I love how elegant and stunning it is, but it just seems too perfect to be on my finger. It’s the opposite of how I felt about Chad’s ring—not a bad item, and my hand was good enough for it.
I pick up a book that has a black cover with elaborate gold filigree. Some kind of mafia arranged-marriage romance. Do mafiosos do arranged marriages all the time? Wonder what that’d be like—marrying a man you’ve never met. Or aren’t even sure you’ll like. At least in romance novels, you’re guaranteed to get a gorgeous guy who knows his way around a woman’s body.
“That’s a great story,” comes a familiar voice. “I read it last week and loved it.”
I spin around. “Zoe! How are you?”
“I’m good.” She hugs me, then checks me out, as though to make sure I’m really okay. “How about you? Did you find a new apartment after the fire?”
