She stands, pulling my shorts back up nice and neat, wiping the corner of her mouth with her middle finger. “Good. You won’t get the chance tonight. I’m hungry.” She pats my ass before leaving me standing speechless by the grill.
What the fuck just happened?
One minute I had control, the next her lips took it all.
I can’t remember the last time I was rendered speechless by a woman other than her. Scratch that. I’ve never been rendered speechless by another woman.
Opening the grill, I do the only thing I can—I finish cooking her steak.
I wait until I can compose myself before I head inside and see the table set with the salad, potatoes, and toppings.
She joins me at the table, a shit-eating grin on her face.
“You’re pretty proud of yourself, huh?” I place her steak on her plate.
“I just know my talents.” Grabbing the salad, she fills her plate and then mine, adding a potato for each of us as well.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for cooking.”
We both dig in, eating in silence for a bit.
“Truth or Dare?” she asks.
“Truth. I don’t even know if I can handle a dare from you. You have me wary.”
“What made you want to be a cop?”
The question catches me off guard.
“Well.” I lean back in my chair. “That’s a pretty loaded question.”
She gathers up the plates and walks them to the sink. “I have plenty of time.”
Following her, I begin to wash everything as she clears the table. “I didn’t set out to be a cop. I was an accountant. I hated it, but it paid the bills in the city.”
“What city? Portland?” She drops the silverware in for me.
“Boston. I lived in Boston with my fiancée. Worked as an accountant. The whole thing.”
“Wow. We’ll come back to the fiancée thing. I can’t see you as an accountant though. Or living in Boston.” She crosses her arms and leans back on the counter, watching me.
“I hated both honestly. But Melissa, my ex, wanted the city life. So we went to Boston College together, and then we never left.”
“What happened with Melissa? Sounds like she got everything she wanted.”
“The best man in my wedding happened.”
“Shut up! One of your brothers fucked your fiancée?!”
I laugh at her outrage. “No. I couldn’t pick a brother, so I asked my best friend from college. I worked a lot of late nights,getting overtime to pay for the wedding she wanted. Apparently that wasn’t enough for her. I was supposed to have the moneyandthe time. So she found someone to give her the attention. I caught them a week before the wedding. Thank God it wasn’t after.”
Hanging the towel over my oven door, I turn to face her.
Her mouth hangs open in disbelief. “You’re kidding me right? That only happens in the movies.”
“I wish. But alas, I came home early, feeling guilty, flowers in hand. Only I found my best friend railing my fiancée from behind on my fucking kitchen counter.” I shrug. I’m over it. It happened a long time ago.
