She shot me a dirty look before stealing another grape. “Romance does.”
I slid the bowl over to her, more than happy to pass the fruit off. One of the sugar bombs was enough for my lifetime. “Not in real life.”
She paused mid-chew, her scowl deepening as a hint of red touched her cheeks. “In the book world it does!”
“Maybe you should read more realistic books so you can stop setting ridiculous expectations,” I suggested, trying to hold in the laugh bubbling in my chest. “That author did you a favor.”
And there it was, the electric I loved, the spark I’d been trying for, igniting as her eyes were suddenly afire. “She broke my heart, you jackass!”
“Read another. You’ll forget about this one in a week.” It was a dick thing to say given how invested she’d been in the series, but if she kept looking at me like that I would combust.
“Will not!” she huffed, pushing away from the counter and carving out precious space between us - space that needed to keep growing for my sake.
“Go write a long review about it then as a victim’s impact statement. Let the world know how you were personally wounded.”
“Maybe I will,” she threatened, eyes flicking to the computer screen. “Did you figure out what I messed up?”
“Getting there.” I had no clue if it was the truth, but I hoped so. I needed to get out of her apartment pronto. If I had to see her prance around half-naked in what she considered pajamas again my dick would fall off.
“Oh yeah? What was the problem?” She leaned close, looping her arms around my neck from behind as she studied the code. “I screwed up big time.”
So did I.
“Not sure yet,” I admitted, trying to think about anything but how amazing her breasts felt pressed firmly against my back, every inch of skin she touched ablaze. Combined with her sweet perfume, it was almost too much.
“If you’re not sure, how can you know you’re getting there?” she teased, cocking her head so her lips were just inches from mine.
I looked past her, focusing on the screen, taking a sharp turn onto the hell no road. “Because I’ve almost checked all the code, Kee.”
“Oh.” She released her hold and pulled away, though my skin still hummed where she’d been, practically calling out for her to come back. “I’m going to change into jammies.”
Fuck.
She disappeared around the corner toward her bedroom, giving me a few minutes to work with at most before I had to leave. I scanned the entries, knowing the fix was likely something simple, making it all the more frustrating that it wasn’t sticking out like a sore thumb. I did the same shit all the time while building sites over the years. Not being able to figure out the problem on a recipe blog was embarrassing.
But like so many times before, my eagle eye failed around Kee, making me regret agreeing to come to her place. The letters blurred together on the screen, so much so that I kept losing my place. Fuck. I needed to finish up and get home before something awful happened.
Danger slashed my throat like a katana a few moments later, delivered by the breathy voice I knew all too well. “Thanks again for the help, Eth.” Kee padded back into the kitchen in an oversized sleep shirt, her sable hair freed from the clip that once held it high, a sheet of dark curls now stretching past her shoulders.
“Anytime, Kee.” As much as I didn’t belong there, I couldn’t refuse when she called me in tears after royally fucking up her site. To everyone else it was a cutesy cooking blog, but it was far more to her. I didn’t like being her guinea pig, especially when she made shit with kale, but I’d do anything to make her happy, even if I put myself in harm’s way in the process.
She pulled out the stool beside mine, straddling the wood to rest her elbows on the cheap laminate. “So how was guys’ night?”
“The usual.” I kept my eyes fixed on the screen, ignoring temptation. Even in a baggy sleep shirt she looked amazing, the stretched fabric baring her shoulders, her collar bones begging for lips.
"The usual," she mimicked with her face contorted into a stuffy impression of mine. "Any wild parties? Table dancing?"
"Totally.” I pushed aside the memory of her dancing on one during our last night out together. The same night that led to me storming to Vermont the next morning for my brother’s wedding like a bear itching for a fight. “I was so spent I barely made it into work this morning.”
I’d actually spent the night putting in miles on the sidewalks of Seaport, my nightly jogs the only thing both lives shared. But when she invited me to grab drinks together, guys’ night seemed like an easier out than just no.
“Yeah, right!” she laughed, reaching out to fan the pages of the book that broke her heart. “Ethan Barrett never misses work. Not even a snowstorm keeps you away.”
It was hard to miss work when your commute consisted of walking to the other side of the home. Not that she knew that. No one did, really. Maybe Uncle Sam, but even that was a web.
“Are you traveling again soon, 007?” She looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes, melting a bit of the snow on my heart as her lips fell into their usual grin.
I smiled, the man of mystery label more suitable than she could ever imagine. “Maybe. It’s up in the air, Plum.”
Travel was the furthest thing from my mind. Things were falling into place like never before. When the spark first ignited, it was so hot it nearly destroyed me, but in time, I learned
