Page 57 of Sex, Not Love


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Jesus Christ. Have the four cigarettes in a row, Minnie, if it gives you this type of relief.

“Thank you,” I managed to squeak out and then cleared my throat. “Come in. You’re a few minutes early, and Izzy hasn’t gotten home yet. I don’t like her to come home to an empty house if I can help it. She isn’t usually this late. I’m sure she won’t be long.”

I closed the door behind him and walked to the kitchen, needing a little space. Looking over my shoulder, I turned back to ask if he’d like a glass of wine and found Hunter’s eyes glued to my ass.

I raised a brow in question when they eventually rose to mine. Of course, he didn’t bother to pretend it hadn’t happened. That wasn’t his style.

“You have a great ass,” he said instead.

“This isn’t starting out like two friends having dinner. You’ve been here thirty seconds, and you’ve already told me how good I smell while pressing our bodies together and commented on my ass.”

“Didn’t say this was a dinner as friends.” He shrugged. “You did. Besides, you’re wearing perfume and a dress that is sexy as hell. You’re ready for a date.”

I rolled my eyes and continued to put that distance between us. “Would you like a glass of wine or not?”

“Sure.”

He followed me into the kitchen. Standing across from the refrigerator, he leaned against the counter in a confident stance.

Lifting his chin toward the sink, he asked, “How’s the drain holding up? No leaks?”

I uncorked the wine I’d opened yesterday and poured two glasses. “Nope. All good.”

When I handed him a glass, he caught my eye. “Damon come around again?”

“No. I think you scared him away.”

“Good.”

I sipped my wine. “So where are we going tonight?”

“One if by Land, Two if by Sea.”

“On Barrow?”

“That’s the one.”

“I pass it all the time. I have a client nearby.” I squinted. “Looks romantic from the outside.”

“Saw it featured in Architectural Digest a few years back. Been meaning to go. But haven’t had the chance.”

“I thought you came to New York all the time.”

“I do. Meant there was no one I wanted to take there.”

God, he was sweet without even trying.

His words, coupled with that intense stare, made me squirm. I grabbed my phone from the counter. “I wonder where Izzy is. She’s not usually this late. What time is our reservation?”

Before Hunter could answer, the front door opened and slammed shut.

“I was beginning to wonde—” Her face halted my sentence. It was red and blotchy, and her eyes were swollen. She’d definitely been crying. I went to her. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she snipped.

Hunter and I glanced at each other. His carefree face from a moment ago was gone, replaced by lethal anger.

“Izzy,” I said. “You need to give me more than that. Did someone bother you on the way home?”

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