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“You look shocked,” he said as he pulled into the garage.
“I thought you’d live somewhere bigger.”
He turned in the seat and pointed his keys at the garage door. “I have a lot of land. It’s only me here, but there’s enough space for, you know. The future and stuff.”
I nodded slowly and got out. It was a triple garage, so I wasn’t entirely sure ‘small’ was the correct word, but it was mostly storage in here. Boxes lined one wall, stacked so haphazardly I wanted to go over there and straighten them all up. A fake Christmas tree was still up like he’d just picked it up by the base and carried it out here. Two bikes, some skis, snowboards—all kinds of outdoor exercise equipment that made me want to tie myself to a chair and never ever go anywhere like that.
“What?”
“It’s a big garage for one truck,” I remarked.
He met my eyes. “You want to sort those boxes, don’t you?”
“So bad,” I admitted. “They’re really irritating me.”
Seb took me by the upper arms and steered me toward a door. “Come on. Another time.”
“But—”
“Holley,” he said my name slowly.
“It’s just an excuse to get me to come back!”
“One hundred percent.” He laughed and pushed open the door.
We stepped into a laundry room that was thankfully much neater than the garage. From there, I followed Seb into a kitchen that was twice the size of mine and then some. The dark granite counters were shining, and the white cabinets were a stark contrast and added some much needed brightness.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “I could live in your kitchen.”
“If I knew that, I’d have brought you here before.” He grinned and opened the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. “I have to make the lasagna from scratch, so it’s going to take a while.”
“This seems like an elaborate ploy to get me to talk,” I said, opening one of the three eye-level ovens.
“Yeah. You’re finally in my house, and that’s what I have in mind. Talking.”
Was this another play him at his own game moment?
It was. It was.
Okay.
I closed the oven and adjusted my glasses, peering over my shoulder. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“I have a pool table,” he said, throwing me off. “Wanna play?”
“Um, sure?” I removed my coat and winter items. “Is there somewhere to hang these?”
“Hooks in the laundry room.”
I took my things in there and hung them on one of the empty hooks. Turning around, I walked right into Seb who was doing the same thing.
“Sorry,” I breathed, my face practically smooshed into his chest.
“It’s fine.” He looked down at me, lips curved up. “You’ll survive.”
“Mhmm.” I darted around him and back into the kitchen. “You need to help me find stuff to make dessert.”
“I have to make dinner,” he said, coming back in after me. “I can’t chase your dessert around.”
“I don’t know where anything is!”
“There might be stuff to bake a cake in that cabinet.” He pointed in the general area of three cabinets.
That narrowed it down.
“This one?’ I opened the first one. It was full of pasta and spaghetti and other non-perishables.
“No, that one.”
“That one?” I opened a second only to find bottles of water all lined up in neat rows. “Ah. I like that one.”
“Thought you might,” he muttered. “That one.”
Finally following his direction properly, I saw the high cabinet he was talking about. “I can’t reach that, Sebastian.”
He gave a long-suffering sigh and put down the onion. Before I could move, he was behind me, stretching up to the cabinet. It was so high that he was able to open it without the door so much as brushing the top of my head, but it could have beat me for all it mattered.
Because his body was right against mine, and I was all but pinned to the lower cabinet doors.
“What are you doing?” I breathed, trying not to focus on how his cock was pressing against my lower back.
And getting harder.
A lot harder.
“Getting the baking box down,” he answered. “It’s at the back.”
Sure.
Sure.
“You have a baking box?”
He pressed his body fully into mine. “Got it.” He slid it out of the cabinet and pulled it down. “It’s technically not mine, it’s my mother’s.”
“I don’t know if I want to use that.”
“She put it there two months ago and forgot about it. Go wild.” He swung the door shut again and put the box on the counter, finally freeing me from being pressed against his penis.
I swallowed hard and turned away so I could examine the box. He laughed, but I was going to pretend I didn’t hear him. He obviously knew he had the makings of a pretty serious erection and wasn’t bothered by it at all.
That’s fine.
Neither was I.
Nope.
Not bothered.
Not at all.
Ahem.
I rifled through the box and pulled out all the ingredients for chocolate brownies. I was pretty impressed by the contents of the baking box, if I was honest. It was a cool spread, more than I had in my own kitchen.
