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“I’m afraid to sit on the couch.”
It was the color of dove’s wings, slouchy and super comfortable. She clucked. “Don’t be such a pussy.”
He jerked his head to glare at her. “Good God, you’re sassy.”
She grinned. “Yeah? So?”
“So nothing.” He skimmed down her body and sighed. “Again with no bra?”
“In fairness, you arrived uninvited, and what I do in the privacy of my own home is my business.”
“True. But still. Have pity on me.”
“What fun would that be?” She swung around and called out, “I’ll get the plates and silverware. Start setting up on the coffee table.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His tone was full of sarcasm.
As she walked away he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “bossy little thing.” She smiled. She’d think about how much she liked him later.
She got to her kitchen and called out, “Oh no, I don’t have anything to drink.”
A second later he called back, “I got you wine, darlin’.”
She was starting to believe Ryder Moore was too good to be true. She returned to the living room holding napkins, paper plates, and silverware. “What’d you bring?”
“Italian. I didn’t know what you’d like so I ordered a bunch of different things.” He pointed to the now-open containers. There was bruschetta, a salad, calamari, and three different kinds of pasta. “I’m not picky, I’ll eat whatever you don’t or we can share.”
Suddenly his thoughtfulness overwhelmed her. It filled her chest, expanded, and made pleasure bloom across her skin. It was unexpected and rare. No one had ever taken care of her. Even as a kid she’d fended for herself. She blinked and met his eyes. “Thank you.”
He gave her that killer smile. “You’re welcome.”
She sat down next to him, putting the stuff she carried on the now-crowded table. Their knees brushed together, skin to skin, and it was like an electric shock.
He picked up the bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses before handing her one. “I assume you don’t have much of a hangover.”
“Not anymore.” She took a sip and glanced at the TV. “What should we watch?”
She didn’t ask if he was staying. It was already clear he was, and that was exactly what she wanted.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun with anyone, and despite their unfortunate chemical reaction to each other, she liked being around him. She just needed to not wrestle with him again. She picked up the remote and turned it on.
“Anything but Say Yes to the Dress or Real Housewives,” he said.
She grinned at him. “Sisters?”
He rolled his eyes. “Sisters.”
“Have you seen Making a Murderer?”
He shook his head. “What’s that?”
She furrowed her brow. “Huge hit on Netflix?”
His gaze dipped to her lips. “I don’t have Netflix.”
She gaped at him in horror. “Why? Are you living under a rock?”
“I don’t watch much TV.”
