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Brenna tossed her head back, giving me a long look at the column of her neck, the way her throat moved when she laughed, the sound another thread of arousal making things below the belt painful. “What are you making?”
“My famous crispy pork chops.”
“Why are they famous?”
I shrugged. “Because I say they are?”
She laughed again and pushed away from the counter. “Where’s Mariana?”
Ah, now she was eager to change the subject. “With Miles and Shannon. They’re babysitting.”
“So it’s just us for dinner?” I nodded letting my gaze settle on the sash of her robe that had loosened even further, revealing the strip of pale skin between her breasts, almost down to her belly button. “Then I should probably go get decent.”
“Don’t do it for my sake. I like the outfit you’re wearing. A lot.” In fact, I would prefer to see her in nothing at all, but that’s not what tonight was about. Not completely anyway. I needed to show Brenna that I was here for her, not for Mariana. “A whole lot.”
“Yeah?” I nodded again and licked my lips, noticing the way her eyes darkened and her pulse increased. “Then you can have it.” She tossed the robe my way and disappeared down the hall, giving me a fantastic view of her heart-shaped ass as she walked away. I wanted to go after her but the pan on the stove sizzled and smoked, reminding me that tonight wasn’t just about getting Brenna out of her clothes.
“Tease!” Her laughter echoed down the hall, deep and throaty. The sound hit me right behind the zipper and I turned my focus to the chops and my goal of impressing her tonight.
I had a clear plan to impress her with my culinary skills, to flirt outrageously with her so there was never a doubt about how much I wanted her. To make her smile and laugh until her cheeks ached. And, if it came to it, I would show her in other, more erotic ways, just how much she meant to me.
“Dang, it smells incredible in here.”
Brenna’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and I turned with a smile that died on my lips. “What the hell are you wearing?”
She looked down at the royal blue scrap of silk she wore and then back up at me, eyes all wide and innocent as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. “This? It’s just a nightgown.”
Just a nightgown? It was a walking hard on and she damn well knew it. “It’s one hell of a nightgown.” Her large breasts were pushed together and up, leaving creamy mounds for my eyes to explore while the fabric came to a stop inches above her knee, leaving miles of leg on display just for me.
“Thanks. Beer?” Before I could tell her she was intoxicating enough, Brenna sauntered to the fridge and bent over, giving me a full view of her round ass with the smallest slip of blue fabric nestled between her cheeks. “Ale or lager?”
My eyes were glued to her ass as it swayed back and forth, tempting me to forget the meat and potatoes threatening to burn if I didn’t tear my gaze away.
“Grant, ale or lager?”
“Sure, whatever.” I turned towards the stove, blinking rapidly to get the vision of her ass, and all the things I wanted to do to her in that position, out of my mind. “I’m easy.”
“Not tonight,” she grumbled under her breath and I smiled.
“What was that?” I turned to look at her over my shoulder, smiling at the disappointed expression on her face.
“I said ale it is.” She set two bottles on the counter with more force than necessary and cracked open each bottle. “So Grant, how was your day?”
“Good. Just finished with a new group of trainees and now we’re gearing up for a bunch of finance guys next week.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
“You have a problem with finance guys?”
“No,” I sighed, thrilled she was interested in knowing more about my work. “They’re more bravado than action, guys who talk a lot of smack but physically can’t back it up. They don’t take it so well when they fail at the obstacles and honestly, I don’t know how much easier I can make them.”
She shrugged and handed me one of the beer bottles. “Stop trying. If they can talk the smack, they can try harder physically. You’re not some aspirin’ trophy wife trying to massage their egos. Are you?”
“No.”
“Then it ain’t your job to make’em feel like men. It’s your job to turn them into men or help them bond, that’s it. And if they get out of line, make’em look stupid by breezing through the obstacle course without breaking a sweat. That’s what I would do.”
“Not sure Liam and Miles would go for that.”
