“Take your boots off, please.” Ever since he opened the truck door for her, holding a hand over her head so she didn’t knock it, she wouldn’t look Splice in the eye. “You can put your jacket on the hook over there.”
Had he flustered her? Hmm. He liked that.
Splice did as directed, leaving his boots lined up against her white-and-blue Vans, then followed Lisa into the kitchen. She had a swanky-looking house, and it smelled exactly like her. A scent he wanted to sniff from the source by pressing his nose into her neck, but he reckoned he might get a gut punch from her smaller fist if he tried it right now.
But the need for it was strong as Splice’s gaze ate up every inch of Lisa’s curvy frame as he traced her steps. He took his fill of the way her breasts pushed against the simple t-shirt hugging her body.
Goddess.
Lisa was a woman everyone took a second look at because of her beauty.
He remembered being insanely jealous when other guys tried to hit on her. But he liked to believe he’d wised up with age, and his first reaction now wouldn’t be to slice and dice any bastard for appreciating her gorgeous face.
That would be Plan B.
“I think I need to shower the hospital smell off my skin.” She announced, and Splice’s head dropped on his neck, feeling a pulse of heat in his stomach.
Together? Yeah, he could be up for that. Hand him the soap. But that was a dream for a dirty biker bastard, wasn’t it?
“Go ahead, sweetheart. I’m gonna have a look in your fridge to see what I can rustle up for you.”
“Do you really cook, or will you burn my kitchen down?”
He laughed lightly and pulled open the fridge door. It was well-stocked with fresh produce. Not a pre-packaged anything to see.
“I do alright; I promise your kitchen will be fine.”
“Hmm.” That was all she said, eyeing him speculatively.
“Can I poke around down here?”
Lisa raised her brow, and Splice felt his gut get warm from that simple, authoritarian look. On the surface, she was sweet, but he’d been fortunate enough to see her take-charge attitude, which remained the sexiest thing he’d ever encountered.
“What does that mean? Do you want to root around in the cabinets?”
Amused, his lips twitched, holding her gaze. “Are you hiding something?”
“Yes,” she replied without missing a beat, adding, “drugs and gigolos.”
Funny little girl. “Head for that shower, sweetheart, I’ll kick out the gigolos.”
He caught her snort-laugh while she walked down the hall, quietly taking the stairs.
Step one. He’d gotten through her front door.
Sifting through all the information he’d ever memorized about Lisa, Splice knew she was more pliable when she wasn’t hungry, so his next step was to feed her. He pulled out eggs, ham, cheese, and green onions from the fridge and assembled them on the center island.
A hot ham and green onion omelet was waiting for her when she returned in fresh sweatpants and a casual hoodie, open to show she was wearing a pink t-shirt that said, “I do it for the K-Drama.”
She looked between him and the plated food. “That looks good. And my kitchen still stands. I didn’t even hear the smoke alarm going off.” She teased with a tipped smile on her lips.
“Look who has jokes. I even washed the pan,” Splice jutted his chin.
“Are you looking for a new job? I can pay you seven dollars an hour to be my butler.”
“Done. I’ll hand my notice in with Axel in the morning.”
“Now, who is the one with the jokes?” Lisa casually took a seat on the stool. Splice was pouring apple juice he’d grabbed from the fridge. He brought it over to Lisa and made sure she was looking at him before he replied.
