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“Whoa there,” I groan and shake my head. My dick rises to the thought of Rea on her back. Not paying me for anything, but just spread out, inviting, and waiting for me—wanting me. I can think of a thousand times, or some approximate number close to that, in the past where she very readily accepted me, nude or not nude. My balls ache at the thought, almost as if I really was wearing those tight jeans I’d just been thinking about. “No one said anything about paying me back, and you’re right, certainly not like that. You should know me better than that. I don’t expect anything. The gift card was a gift, and the pool would have been a gift too.”

“But why? People don’t just give gifts because they want to! People don’t give absurdly expensive gifts like that. Ever. So, either you must want to be paid back, or you have an angle.”

“Tacos.”

Rea’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“Tacos. Tacos first; we can discuss the rest later. Although, from a gift standpoint, there isn’t anything else to talk about, but I do want to ask you a few other questions.”

“And you think you can bribe me with tacos?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes tear away from me and look over all the dishes, heaped high with her favorites. I know exactly how she likes her tacos.

“You forgot the olives. I’m not having tacos without olives, so it looks like you’re out of luck.”

I dart back to the counter and grab the paper bag I haven’t unpacked. I produce a can of black olives, crack it open, drain it, and set it on the table. Which, by the way, I happen to have set for two. Presumptuous, perhaps, but as I said, Rea can’t resist tacos.

I offer her a big, goofy grin and the most charming of all winks. I realize the one dimple I have is probably fully on display. “Looks like I might have a little bit of luck left after all.”

CHAPTER 13

Rea

Well, cluckaduck. I guess I have to sit down. Even I can admit when I’m beaten. Though I’m not beat by Kayden, mind you. It’s the dang tacos. Like, who could resist tacos? T to the A to the C-O-S. Who in the world could have the willpower to say nope, I’m not going to eat any of those delicious, perfectly fried, fresh, zippy, zesty, orgasmic looking tacos? Who would say no to foodgasms?

I don’t like that Kayden already set the table like he presumed to know me. Whatever. So, he might have known me in the past, but that was the old Rea. I have to keep telling myself that. Now there’s a new Rea and an old Rea, and the new Rea isn’t supposed to sit across from him and eagerly take taco shells off the plate he put them on and start heaping them to the brim.

Whatever. Apparently, the new Rea really likes tacos too. They’re seriously good.

“So?” Kayden asks around a mouthful of taco. He somehow never breaks his hard shell. I don’t know how the heck he accomplishes that. It’s a skill I haven’t even begun to develop yet. “Why did you really dump me?”

I inhale an olive straight down the wrong pipe and cough uncontrollably for a few seconds. Kayden doesn’t get up to pat my back as he knows I have it under control. I don’t need any invasive maneuvers just yet. I force it down and take a great big gulp of the water from the glasses he also filled up when he set the table. I’d prefer soda, honestly, because soda and tacos go together like salt and pepper or fries and ketchup or something, but the water makes it down and pushes the errant olive too.

“I meant what I said,” I choke out. “About meaning what I said all those years ago. It wouldn’t have worked. That was all there was to it.”

“But you moved. Across the country. You went about as far away from me as you could get.”

I paste on my best nonchalant look before saying, “Yeah, lots of people do that after a breakup. I think it’s pretty ordinary. Plus, I couldn’t help where I got a good job interview. I applied all over the place. I wasn’t above moving, and the company paid for it. I couldn’t have asked for a better deal. It wasn’t to get away from you per se.”

“Just a little?”

“No. It was just a good offer.”

Kayden nods like he doesn’t believe me. He eats his way through an entire taco while I watch. Then, he goes for another. I realize he forgot the sour cream, but I’m not going to point it out now because even though he likes it, I don’t. He did remember the avocado, which he doesn’t like, but I’m crazy for, so I have to give him grudging brownie points for that.

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