“So ... law school, huh?” I took a long pull of my beer. “That’s impressive.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t say anything else about it, but I didn’t miss the tiny frown between her eyes. “Will I get my head bit off again if I ask if you’re still making pastries?”
I chuckled. “I told you, that was my evil twin. I’m completely cool with what I do. I own it.” I paused. “I’m also the best fucking pastry chef in South Jersey, so there’s that.”
“And so modest, too,” she noted wryly.
“Hey.” I spread out the fingers of the hand not holding my beer. “There’s nothing arrogant about telling the truth. And false modesty is a crock of shit. I know I’m good at what I do. I worked hard to get where I am, and I still work damn hard every day. I put in the hours, and I know my craft.”
“I wasn’t saying otherwise.” She sipped her drink. “I guess I’m just not used to being around men who are so ...” She hesitated.
“Cocky?” I supplied.
“No.” She shook her head. “So sure about the value and quality of their work. Cocky, I’m familiar with. Arrogant, I totally understand. But that’s different. It’s annoying, because when they do it, it’s like they’re putting down other people to make themselves look better. Does that make sense?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I know those types, too. They’re assholes.”
Amanda tossed back her head and laughed, a low, throaty sound that raced down my spine, straight to my dick. I wanted to see her make that move again. And I wanted to be buried balls-deep inside her when she did.
Yeah. It was like that.
“Hey.” I wrapped my fingers around her upper arm, my fingers just barely skimming her warm skin. “Are you single? Are you seeing anyone?”
Her cheeks went pink. “Not that it’s any of your business—”
“I want to make it my business tonight.” I swallowed, my throat tight with want. “Listen, I don’t like to play games. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do girlfriends. If I want that kind of drama, I only have to hang out in my kitchen. But I don’t fuck women who belong to other men, either.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted as she stared up at me. “I don’t belong to anyone but myself.”
“Good.” I loosened my hold on her arm. “I also don’t force myself on women who aren’t interested. So if you’re not, just say the word, and I’ll walk away. No harm, no foul. No hard feelings.”
“And if I am?” Her gaze didn’t waver, but I saw the slight quiver of her full lower lip.
“If you are, then we can have another drink, maybe eat some of the food ... try some of my very excellent cannoli or the pignolo or biscotti. And then we’ll get out of here and find some place where we can be alone—” I paused. It had just occurred to me that I was supposed to share a hotel room with Carl and Ange and the baby tonight. My parents had insisted that we all stay at a local hotel, since they were still firmly in denial that Liam and Ava slept in the same room, in the same bed, in the condo they’d shared for over two years. Thus none of us ever admitted to staying in my sister’s guest room when we were in town.
“Does the look of dismay on your face tell me that you’ve hit a road block in your plan?” Amanda sounded amused.
“Not unless you have an issue with sleeping in the same room with my brother, my sister-in-law and my baby nephew.”
The expression of horror on Amanda’s face made me double over laughing. “I’m kidding. I can probably get my own room. I’ll call the hotel right now and see.” I reached to pull my phone out of my back pocket.
“Or ...” Amanda laid a hand on my forearm. “We could go to my apartment, which is twenty minutes away, across the bridge.”
I studied her, considering. “You’d be all right with that?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”
“Do you have a roommate?”
She smiled a little. “No, I don’t. What I do have is a huge king-sized bed.” When I cocked my eyebrow, she added, “And privacy. Because I have a feeling if we’re spotted together at the hotel where the rest of your family is staying, it might not go over well.”
Amanda was right, of course, but I was slightly surprised that she had thought about it—and that she seemed to be on the same page as me. Most of my random hook-ups wanted to be seen with me, or at least didn’t care if anyone saw us. The fact that Amanda was as concerned as I was about being discreet should’ve made me feel relieved. It did, but at the same time, I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t used to a woman wanting to hide her association with me.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed. “The hotel isn’t that big. And my mother would inevitably find out that I wasn’t staying with Carl and Ange, and she’d hunt me down like a dog if I were anywhere in the place. She’s got this crazy sixth sense about all of her kids.”
“Then I guess we’re going to my apartment.” She drained her glass. “I can call us a ride. If you’re ready now, I mean.”
“I have my own car here. I drove down after everyone else, because I was bringing the desserts. So you don’t have to call for anything. Just ...” I ran one hand over my hair. “Let me tell Carl not to wait up.”
