“You’re cooking?” she said stupidly. Obviously he was.
“I didn’t think you would mind. I brought over the stuff from my place, so you’re not out any food.”
“You brought food over?”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say? With only minor variations, of course.” He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her.
“I…uh…”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a master chef and you’re impressed,” he said with a big grin.
She paused for another moment before an answering grin broke out on her face. “I actually am impressed,” she said before pulling down two plates from her cupboard and setting them at her little table.
“Wow. Didn’t expect you to admit that,” he told her with a cheesy smile.
“I call it how I see it.” Kyla’s confusion was evaporating, though she wasn’t sure why. She placed the syrup and butter on the table and waited for him to bring the food over.
Why was she spending so much time analyzing this? Hadn’t he said he wouldn’t be at these apartments very long? Didn’t that mean that she really had nothing to risk by flirting with him, by just enjoying his company?
Even if she did end up getting a little attached to the man, he would leave just as quickly as he’d appeared in her life. She didn’t yet know if she was willing to sleep with him, but a bit of harmless banter didn’t hurt anyone, right?
She took her first bite and then had to gush. “Oh my goodness, this is great. How did you come up with it?”
“This French toast is a sworn secret. There’s no way I could divulge the recipe.”
“I have ways of making you talk, Tanner.”
“By all means, make me,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“This stuff is good enough that I just might try.” She didn’t even know who she was as she continued flirting with Tanner so shamelessly. She also didn’t care. It just felt right.
The two of them finished their meal, and then she insisted on washing the few dishes involved before they left her apartment.
When they entered the street and began strolling along, Kyla was a little bit afraid at the comfortableness she now felt with Tanner. This was certainly a routine she could get used to. When his hand reached for hers and she accepted the twining of their fingers, her heart started to flutter.
Maybe now was the time to worry about getting attached to him. She could certainly feel something when she was with this man, something much more potent than she wanted to admit to.
But for now, she didn’t have the time to worry about it. Maybe she would tomorrow. Or maybe the day after tomorrow.
Chapter Fifteen
Yeah, you’ve got that something…
That was it! He must be in a freaking time slip, thrown back decades to a silly period when even four grown men sang stupid songs about holding hands.
The whole thing was just weird. He’d started to walk Kyla to and from the mall over the past few days — what if she was followed again? That was a good excuse, wasn’t it? And each day, dammit, he took her fingers with his, and his thumb rubbed against her satin skin, and he felt as if he never wanted to let go. What in the hell was he thinking?
This was a new one for him. Who held hands anymore, except maybe old married people? What was the point? Okay, there was a pulse nearby, so maybe if you pushed at it cleverly, it would serve some automotive function and send a babe you wanted into overdrive. He’d have to check that out on the Web.
But sex hadn’t been what he was thinking when he lost his hand-holding virginity as a grown man in his thirties. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from their joined fingers, and couldn’t ignore how right it felt.
This woman — a woman, he reminded himself, whom he’d known for a couple of weeks — was starting to dominate his thoughts, even in his sleep. She was quickly getting underneath his skin, and, oddly enough, that didn’t terrify him as much as it should.
He should have been running from her as fast as he could, but instead, he found himself seeking her out, offering his help, and enjoying nothing more than her company. So far, all she’d allowed him to do was kiss her.
Hell, he hadn’t even managed to get the woman’s shirt off yet, and still, he felt content. He’d never worked so hard before to close a deal, and he’d certainly never enjoyed spending so much time in a woman’s presence.
In the past he’d grown bored after taking a woman out once or twice. Maybe his fascination with Kyla stemmed from the fact that he hadn’t bedded her yet. That had to be it. It really was time that he stop this juvenile madness. He had work to do. It was time to grow up.
But he hadn’t seen Kyla all day, and he missed her, missed her tremendously, missed her touch, her voice, her wit, her little jokes. So he found himself walking from his apartment and standing in front of her door.
Damn. More of her cookies and their heavenly smell. Was this planned? Did she know the way to his…stomach? His hand lifted, made a fist, and rapped on her door, almost against his will. He should go back home — sheesh, was he calling this place home now? — but…hell. He knew it was futile even to think that thought. He wanted to see her, wanted to pull her in close for another kiss — even if that’s all he was going to get from her.
“I missed you today,” he blurted out when her door opened and she appeared, looking scrumptious enough for him to take a bite.
Her hair was tied back, a few escaped tendrils lying softly against her face, and she had flour smeared across her nose and forehead. Wearing an apron that was also covered in flour and had the motto Cooks do it hotter, she looked better than if she’d been standing before him in the finest lingerie.
Yeah, he had it bad.
“Invite me in?”
She replied with a lift of her eyebrow and a slight smile on her lips as she waited for him to continue.
“I want to taste your…cookies,” he said with a wolfish smile.
Some women might have gotten huffy. Not her. Kyla laughed and, much to his surprise, opened her door wider so he could step through. That was another thing he loved about her, the fact that she could take what he dished out and even give it back most of the time.
“You look so pathetic standing there with drool on your chin; how could I possibly send you away without getting…a taste?”
His heart rate jumping up by at least fifty beats per minute, Tanner couldn’t stand it any longer. He cornered her in the kitchen and, without giving her time to resist, pulled her against him as he lowered his head. He had to have a mouthful before he died of hunger.