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Dean sat down on the couch beside her and took a drink of the dark, bitter liquid. “Well, I can tell you right now, it’s not as big as a car, but I think you’ll be happy.” He noticed her grimace as she tried her drink. “Too strong?”

“No, it’s great,” she said.

“Liar.” He smiled to let her know he was teasing, and she laughed, a rich, husky sound that drew his gaze to the pale skin of her throat. The thought of kissing her as she laughed, feeling that vibration of joy against his mouth, left his dick straining against the front of his shorts, and he twisted around to face her so his hard-on wasn’t as noticeable.

When her laughter subsided, a sheepish grin still stretched across her pink lips. “Fine, it tastes like mud with a hint of sugar.”

“Ouch. Already criticizing my culinary skills?”

Violet set the cup on the coffee table and settled back into the couch, her hand resting a few inches from his leg. “Is coffee-making considered a skill?”

Dean shifted his body until the top of her hand touched the khaki of his cargo shorts. Fine, so it was a middle-school move, but it worked. Her hand turned over, and he felt the light glide of her fingers through the fabric.

“Since the rest of my cooking consists of protein shakes and TV dinners, I’m going to count it.”

Her hand stilled on his thigh, and she looked at him doubtfully. “That’s all you eat? You never cook?”

“Sometime the guys and I will barbeque some steaks or hamburgers, but otherwise, why go to all the trouble of cooking for just me?”

“Because you can’t live on shakes and crap. Cooking is fun, even if it is just you.”

The way she talked about it, her voice filled with excitement and passion, made him want to keep her talking. He liked her animated; it made her shine brighter.

“Do you cook?” he asked.

“Yeah, I can cook.”

“Then maybe I’ll just hire you to make me casseroles or something.”

“Ha, or you could take a cooking class and learn to do it yourself,” she said.

“Or you could just teach me.” He was never this easygoing with a woman he hardly knew, but there was something about Violet that was warm and welcoming. Someone he could easily like and admire, on top of desire. It was why he’d suggested the friends-with-benefits arrangement. If it was going to be a frequent occurrence, there needed to be some level of trust to go along with the wanting, and being this comfortable with Violet was definitely a plus.

Just as long as their emotions stayed in check.

“Now?”

“Now what?” He’d been distracted by his deep thoughts and the adorable freckles on her nose.

Now her hand rested just above his knee, and she looked confused. “You want me to teach you to cook now?”

His arm stretched along the back of the couch and his fingers itched to dance along the smooth skin of her shoulder. “Nah, I don’t even think I have anything besides frozen burritos.”

Before he could make a move, though, Violet wrinkled the bridge of her nose and stood up. “Gross.” Dean gaze followed the swing of her hips as she walked over to the kitchen. When she opened the fridge, she studied his shelves and tsked. “This is a travesty. All of your meals are liquid.”

“But they’re healthy. The green one is kale.”

Violet made a disgusted face. “No one likes the taste of kale.”

“They add lemon to mask the flavor.”

Next she checked his freezer and pulled out one of his TV dinners with a laugh. “How is Marie Callender’s chicken pot pie healthy?”

“Hey, it’s got vegetables in it!”

She shut the freezer door with a thud and came back to the couch. This time, she sat down closer, and he adjusted so that the sides of their bodies met and pressed together.

Her hand cupped the side of his face, and he turned to look into her warm brown eyes.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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