Romancing the Rival by Kris Fletcher

Author:Kris Fletcher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2017-09-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Spence filled her glass to the top.

She plucked a date from the plate and stared into it so intently that he almost started believing in X-ray vision. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is all so nice.” She waved, encompassing the brick cooking arch, the candles on the island, the wine and dates. “And there’s nothing I can do about him, and you’re actually making me laugh—”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“Not surprised. Grateful. And I don’t want to talk about him.” She bit into the date. “Is that blue cheese in here?”

“It is.” He focused on plating the food to hide any signs of his internal debate.

On the one hand, this might not be a great night to drop another Rob bomb on her.

On the other hand, if she was already pissed off, telling her now could get it all over with at once and avoid messing up another night.

On the third hand, she might need a distraction. He was hell at distractions.

On the fourth hand, what the hell was he doing, thinking about future nights?

Sure, he had told Livvy that he didn’t go into things simply looking to get laid. It wasn’t totally true—no guy on the planet would give his sister a hundred percent truthful answer to that one—but on the whole, it was pretty accurate. He wasn’t looking for anything long-term, not at the moment, but never—okay, rarely—did he get involved with a woman unless he could see himself spending at least a little time with her. Definitely more time than was required simply to boink her, to use Livvy’s term.

Bree was a different case, though. A totally different circumstance. And while a couple of months ago he would have sworn up and down that he had nothing in common with her, that as far as he was concerned she was an uptight, self-righteous academic who was all theory and no action, well, now he knew there was a lot more to her. And not just because of the interlude that had left him needing to avoid the sight of filing cabinets for a while.

Bree was . . . well. She was more than he’d expected. He found, somewhat to his surprise, that he wanted to keep exploring. Find out what else might lie beneath that fancy-talking surface.

He was intrigued.

Which meant he had to take the chance.

He slid her plate in front of her, grabbed his own food and glass, and took the stool beside her.

“Bon appétit,” he said, raising his wineglass.

She leaned back ever so slightly. “No candlelit dining room? I’m surprised.”

So was he. Not that she had anticipated the whole seduction scenario, but that he had changed course and abandoned the white linens and candles he’d set up in the other room. Somehow, the kitchen, complete with pans on the stove and the lingering smells from the grill, seemed like the right choice.

After all, he and Bree had a whole lot more than dirty dishes between them.

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