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“Because it is.”
Softening his tone, he argued, “Because it is has never been a good reason why in the history of all reasons why, Honor. I’m going to need more than that.”
She narrowed her gaze and stiffened her spine. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“You’re right, you don’t,” he agreed. “But let’s get something straight right away. I like you. I’m insanely attracted to you—have been since the first moment I saw you—and unless I’m way off base here, I think it goes both ways.”
You were off base with Brianna.
Yeah, well, Honor was not Brianna. She was so far from that bitch they might as well be opposite poles of the earth. In fact, arousal still dilated Honor’s pupils to the point the freckle in her right eye was barely visible. Interest like that couldn’t be faked.
“Oh, really?” Her eyebrows arched. “Are you a jerk to all women you’re attracted to?”
Reminded of how he’d walked away from her the first two times they met, he shot back, “No, just the one I thought was engaged. And while I will apologize for being an ass, it was the only way I could stop myself from kissing you when I thought you belonged to another man.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. That insane attraction he’d mentioned ignited in a split second. The edge of the counter bit into his palms as he struggled to keep from moving in for another kiss.
She shook her head the tiniest bit, as if fighting her own internal desires. Then she drew in a deeper, more deliberate breath while lifting her chin. “None of that matters, because if we go too far now, it’ll be too awkward living across the street from each other when things are over. This is my home now, and I don’t want anything to mess with that.”
“Why do you automatically assume—oh. Right.” His chest tightened as if clamped in a vice. “Let me rephrase that. Why don’t you believe in love?” He didn’t even bother adding the hypothetical anymore.
“You really are nosey, aren’t you?” She sat up straighter and gave a little shove against his shoulders.
He stepped back, and she slid down off the counter, then turned her back to him. Quick, efficient movements transferred dirty dishes from the counter to the sink before she snatched up the dish cloth and scrubbed the entire work surface with way more force than necessary.
Asher moved around her to plug the sink. Then he started the water running while reaching for the soap sitting next to the faucet. Dishes, take two.
“What are you doing?”
Giving the bottle a good squirt into the sink, he glanced over to see Honor’s one hand fisted in the dishcloth on the counter, the other braced on her hip. A couple little soap bubbles floated up into the air between them.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Well, yeah, but why? It’s almost two a.m. Surely you’d rather go to bed?” Her cheeks flushed and she quickly added, “At your own house.”
She didn’t add alone, but her tone spoke the word loud and clear.
“Honestly?”
She hesitated, then grudgingly said, “Always.”
“I’m hoping you’ll send me home with a couple of these cupcakes as payment. After they’re frosted, of course.”
It was the truth, but not the whole truth. She’d been right about the bed, but only if she joined him. Since that wasn’t happening, he’d rather be here than there, even at two o’clock in the morning. He shut off the water and reached to take the dish cloth from her. The mere brush of their fingers sent a spark of electricity zinging up his arm.
Her quick little jerk told him she’d felt it, too.
“Didn’t you have cake at the party?”
“One thing you’ll learn about me, I can never have too much cake. And never ever have I heard of such a thing as too much frosting.”
She rolled her eyes, but not before he thought he glimpsed a smile tugging the corners of her sweet, delectable lips. Geezus, he’d love to dive in deep for another taste.
“Fine, you can have some. In fact, you can take them right now. You don’t have to work for them.” She took two off the cooling rack, then scooped up a big triangle bag of frosting lying off to the side.
Damn. Looked like his time was running out. He started washing dishes anyway. “I don’t mind—unless you do?”
“No.”
