“You haven’t ruined anything, and I’m sorry if I hurt you. Honestly, I’m a little speechless. That was incredible to hear, J. My heart is overflowing, and I’m all choked up. I just need some time to process everything.”
“I get it, and you have nothing to apologize for.”
I turn on some classical music as we prep the meat and vegetables, lowering it down as I explain the recipe for creamy chicken pesto pasta.
We work companionably, side by side, but I’m acutely aware of his presence, his scent, the warmth rolling off his body, and just how manly he is. Sounds cheesy, I know, but I can’t explain it any other way.
He’s just…all man.
My mouth is dry as I watch him toss the chicken and veg in olive oil, his fingers working overtime to coat every piece. Muscles flex and roll in his tanned, inked arms and it’s the most delicious arm porn. Visions of those skilled hands gliding over my naked body float through my mind, and I discreetly squeeze my thighs as heat floods my panties.
“Sorry,” he says when his hip accidentally brushes against mine, sending fiery tremors zipping through my already overheated body.
It snaps me out of my lust-fueled mind. “You can, ah, toss them in the skillet to brown them a little, and then we’ll put them in the oven.”
Jared moves to the stove, and I sneak a quick peek at his rear profile. Broad muscular shoulders and a toned back fit snugly under his T-shirt. Jared is the only man I know who regularly strips his sweater off in Cali in October. His ass molds perfectly to the expensive denim before it curves over solid thighs and lean legs. Sizzling sounds fill the air, and I inspect my body to ensure the sounds aren’t coming from me because every inch of skin feels like it’s on fire.
Damn this man. And so much for snapping out of my lusty daze.
“Syd.” Fingers snap in my face. “Earth to Sydney.”
“What?”
His lips twitch. “I’ve browned the meat and veggies and transferred it to the oven dish.”
“Wow. How long was I drooling?”
He barks out a laugh, and I want to punt kick myself up the ass for speaking the thought out loud.
“You can drool as long as you want, Syd. You know I’m good for it.” He flashes me a cheeky smile that takes me back in time.
“Shut it.” I playfully jab him in the ribs. “I meant daydreaming not drooling. As if.”
His knowing grin says it all, and the only person I’m fooling is myself.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Sydney
Icome home a few days later to find my car jacked up and Jared propped underneath it. I lightly tap the hood so he knows I’m home. “Is it safe for you to be under there?” I ask, concern underscoring my tone. I’m worried the car might drop on top of him and crush vital organs and bones.
He slides out on some roller thingy with a wide smile. “I know what I’m doing,” he says. “Before I was shipped to boarding school, I spent every Saturday working with my uncle at his garage. I can’t claim to be a mechanic, but I know my way around a car.”
“So, what’s the damage?” I prop my elbows on the hood.
“It’s nothing serious.” He hops to his feet like a gazelle, and I’m jealous. Last week, I could barely get up after weeding the garden for a couple hours. Jared stopped by when I was elbows-deep in my flowerbeds, and he insisted on helping. Like he insisted on helping me paint the last two bedrooms. I can’t deny he’s handy to have around.
“Your oil pan was leaking,” he says, wiping his greasy hands on a dirty piece of cloth that looked like it might have been white at some point. “I took it out, cleaned it, and then replaced it and tightened the bolts.”
“You’re a man of many talents,” I stupidly say.
A grin spreads over his gorgeous mouth. “You haven’t seen the half of it.”
I roll my eyes. “I walked straight into that one.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.” He waggles his brows, and I shake my head, laughing.
“I topped up your oil and water and did a couple of other checks, but all looks good.”
