She fell into step beside him. “I envy you so much space in this kitchen,” she said as she entered the room.
It was big, all right, with room enough for a small horde. Usually Sly and Mrs. Rutland were the only ones in here, with periodic visits from Dani and an occasional crew member.
Having Lana in here felt...different. Felt right. Frowning, he switched on the oven.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
Go homebefore I do something we’ll both regret. But it was too late for that. She’d already agreed to eat with him.
She gave him one of the smiles that erased his common sense. Who was he kidding? As bad an idea as bringing her to the ranch was, he definitely wanted her here. He wanted her, period.
“Sly?” She shot him a funny look. “I asked if there’s something I can do to help with dinner.”
“How about setting the table.”
After she washed her hands, he showed her where to find the place mats and utensils.
As she bent down to arrange them out on the table, she kicked the ordinary task to a whole new level of hot.
He really was losing it. Tired of his one-track mind, he grabbed two glasses from the cabinet. “While dinner heats, I’ll give you the five-cent house tour.”
He showed her the main floor—living room, den, dining, and powder rooms.
“All the bedrooms are upstairs?” she asked.
“That’s right—all four of them.”
Her sudden, telltale blush revealed that she was thinking about all the beds in those rooms, or was he the only one? But inviting her, or any woman, to bed at his house was off-limits.
Yet he considered breaking his rule just this once and giving her a hands-on tour of his king-size bed.
The oven buzzed and he jerked his thoughts back to the here and now. His brain heaved a relieved sigh, but his body wasn’t happy.
The sooner Lana left, the better.
“Time to eat,” he said, and they returned to the kitchen.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Sly didn’t saymuch as Lana sat down at his kitchen table. Without so much as a “help yourself,” he silently passed her a steaming casserole that smelled amazing.
He seemed ill at ease, but so was she. For some reason, sharing the evening meal at his ranch table felt like a big step. Too big for a man who wasn’t into serious relationships.
But whether he wanted to be or not, they were on the verge of the relationship of their lives—parenting their child. It would be a huge change they both needed time to adjust to.
Wanting to ease the tension, Lana smiled. “This is delicious. Please thank your housekeeper for me.”
“Will do.”
He didn’t say another word, and for a while the only sounds were their cutlery against the plates.
She tried again. “What would you be doing if I weren’t here right now?”
“Probably eating in front of the tube.”
“Sometimes I do that, too, or I read a book or magazine.” Better either of those than focusing on the loneliness of eating alone. “And occasionally I work while I eat.”
