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tic.”
He held one of the dining room chairs out for her and she sat, her stomach growling as the smell of food reached her nose. She eyeballed the dish of mashed potatoes with cheese and bread crumbs on top.
“This looks so good.”
Dustin took the seat across from her and waved a hand. “Ladies first.”
Rylie was conscious of Dustin watching her as she scooped a small portion of the rich looking mashed potatoes onto her plate, then the green beans, and a chicken breast. She was trying very hard to be ladylike when she really wanted to pick up the dish like the Beast in the Disney cartoon and throw etiquette to the wind.
She had just taken her first exquisite bite when she noticed Dustin had piled his plate high, but wasn’t eating. Instead, he was watching her.
Intensely.
She swallowed the creamy potatoes and tilted her head. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He took a bite, his gaze still on hers, and she knew he was thinking something.
“You want to say something to me.”
Dustin shook his head and poured wine into his empty glass. “Nope. I just want to eat and get started on that truck.”
Rylie let it go, slipping another mouthful past her lips. He held the bottle of wine out to her and she shook her head. Instead, she reached for a pitcher of ice water and poured it into the wineglass to her right.
“You afraid to drink around me?”
“I told you, I’m not a big wine drinker.”
“Probably because you’re used to the six-dollar shit.”
Rylie resisted the urge to flick a spoonful of potatoes at him. “There you go, flashing your money around.”
He quirked a brow at her, and she was beginning to resent that look. “Most women don’t mind it when I wine and dine them.”
“I’m not most women.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
The way he said it made Rylie wonder if he thought that was a bad thing.
* * * *
The meal had been excruciating, but not because he didn’t like Rylie or didn’t want to be around her.
It was the way she’d looked after that first bite of food. Her eyes had rolled up into her head, and he could have sworn she moaned a bit.
He wasn’t about to point that out and embarrass her, but damn, it had been hot.
Too hot.
Now, they were outside the pool house gate, lugging boxes. It was dusk, with hardly any sun left in the pinkish-purple sky, and muggy. The T-shirt he’d changed into after dinner was now sticking to his back, and as he picked up the last box, he was ready to strip down and jump into the pool.
He walked through the sliding glass door and set the box down. Her stuff had only taken up about half the truck, but the books were heavy and made up about six medium-size boxes.
“You ever think about getting a Kindle or something and downloading all these paperbacks?”
She shook her head as she lifted a bag of clothing off the floor. “I like the smell and feel of real books.”
