Page 34 of Keeping Knight

“Pizza’s fine.” I give her hand a little squeeze. “You’ll never hear me complain about ordering from Gio’s Pizzeria. I can’t believe you haven’t tried it yet.”

“There’s a good place near my apartment,” she replies. “Pete’s Pizza.”

“Pete’s Pizza? What kind of name is that?”

Her lips twitch. “The name of the pizza place?”

“It’s supposed to be Italian, though,” I insist. “Gio’s. Sal’s. Angelino’s.”

Ruby laughs. “I don’t know what Pete is. But his pizza is good.”

“Hmm.” I shoot her a skeptical look. “I’m not sure about that. I guess we’ll have to try Pete’s next time.”

Her face brightens. “I guess we will.”

Once we reach the kitchen, I pull out my phone to place the order. “What would you like?” I ask Ruby as she’s grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Any particular toppings? Do you want garlic knots to go with it?”

“No garlic knots,” she replies quickly. A beat later, her cheeks go pink. “Unless you want them. But pizza’s enough for me. You pick the toppings. Since you order from there all the time, I’m sure you know the best ones. Just no pineapple or anchovies, please.”

“Okay.” I pull up Gino’s number in my contacts. “I’ll order two pizzas. Their five-cheese and one with mushrooms and pepperoni. Does that sound good?”

Ruby makes an appreciative sound that’s somewhere between a hum and a moan. She doesn’t mean for it to be sexy, but my increasingly eager dick doesn’t understand. He likes Ruby. A lot. And the longer she’s here, the more he wants her.

Okay, fine. It’s not just him.

I want her. I want to do more than hold her hand or give her a comforting hug. I want to see if the image I’ve created in my head of her naked body matches ‌the real thing. I want to bring her to my bed instead of leaving her in the guest room every night. I want to peel her clothes off and kiss her all over. I want⁠—

No. Stop thinking about Ruby like that. She’s here for her protection. Not for me to put the moves on her.

Pissed at myself, I force myself to focus on placing the order. I leave out the garlic knots, but remembering Ruby’s admission that dessert was always her favorite as a kid, I add a couple of tiramisu and a dozen Italian cookies.

When I hang up, I turn to find Ruby watching me with a smile. “What?” I ask.

“You ordered dessert.”

“I did,” I agree. “You don’t have to eat it. I just thought you might enjoy something sweet for later.”

“I would.” Ruby sets her water bottle on the counter and walks over to me. Less than an arm’s length away, she’s close enough to catch the soft floral scent of her shampoo. The overhead lights turn her hair into a fiery blend of red and bronze. A constellation of freckles across her nose begs ‌me to trace them with my finger.

She’s so damn beautiful.

My body longs to take her into my arms.

“I love dessert,” she continues. “When I was young, that was how my parents would get me to behave. If I started acting up, they’d threaten to take away dessert that night. Never dinner. Just dessert.”

I shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her. “And did it work?”

Ruby nods. “Most of the time.”

“I remember you telling me,” I say. “Not the thing about your parents. But that dessert was your favorite when you were a kid.”

“Really?” Her brows pinch together. “When did I tell you that?”

“The first week we partnered together. When we were making the omelettes. You were telling me how your mom would do breakfast for dinner once a month. And that she would make your favorite dessert. The strawberry cheesecake turnovers.”

Ruby beams. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I remember.”