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Oh my God, stop it now.

“What’s on the menu, Chef?” I tap my chin with my fingernail. “Or is it Chef Mayor? Mayor Chef?”

Russell raises one eyebrow, his lips spreading into a full grin. How did I not notice that little dimple pressing into his cheek before? “It’s a surprise.” He leads me into the kitchen and places me at a stool on the island. The rich, savory smells coming from the stove make my stomach growl. I forgot to eat lunch, and I didn’t even miss it until now.

Russell pours us both a glass of white wine. One hair pulls free from his perfectly groomed mane, falling over one eye like he planned it. This man oozes sexuality and I have the drenched panties to prove it. He pouts his lips in concentration and all I can think of is how delectable it would be to sink my teeth into them, give them a little nibble. I shift in my seat, hoping I’m not so wet as to ruin his expensive stool.

His blue-green eyes glow as he holds my gaze while we clink glasses. I’m so choked up by this entire scene that I nearly choke on my words. “Cheers.” I sip a little more than I should, but I need the liquid courage. My heart rate’s up and my libido is on fire. I could honestly fan myself and still not cool down from the vibes Russell’s throwing out at me, and to be honest I don’t want to.

Who even am I anymore?

“You do eat meat, right?”

I know he doesn’t mean this as an innuendo, but I can’t help but giggle to myself like a freaking teenager. “Yes, I eat meat.” A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste.

“Good, because I’ve got a lot of meat.”

Unable to hold it in, I burst out with laughter. When Russell shoots me a confused look, I press my lips together into a thin line and compose myself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” I clear my throat, trying to think up something to say, but with a man like Russell, I think he can handle a little bit of play. “It’s just that I love meat, and it’s safe to say,” I narrow my eyes and press my tongue against my top teeth. “I can handle yours, even if there is a lot of it.”

5

Russell

That cheekylittle sexpot just made me blush. I turn away from her and plate our dinners. We move to the dining room table where I dim the lights, and turn on some music. Like most first dates, the air is thick with awkward tension at first, but as dinner progresses, I find myself hanging on every word coming out of Josie’s upturned mouth.

“Yeah, Los Angeles was fun but it can be a little…” She scrunches her adorable nose.

“Fake?”

“At times, yes. Plus being in hospitality it’s like I was constantly catering to crazy needs.”

“Did you work with celebrities?”

“When I was first starting out, I cleaned rooms at The Roosevelt in Hollywood. Do you know it?”

“I’ve stayed there a few times.”

Josie exhales and throws her dark hair over her smooth shoulder. I imagine how hot her skin would be against my lips, and stiffen on the spot. “Rich people can be total pigs.” A tiny gasp escapes her mouth. “No offense,” she says, wide eyed.

“None taken.” I swirl my wine around on the table. “How are the people here in Burly Creek?”

A genuine smile plays on her lips. In the low light, Josie looks dazzling. A flash appears in my mind’s eye of Josie and I doing this every night. Sitting at the table, talking about our day. Doing the dishes together and then fucking like rabbits until the sun comes up.

“The people of Burly Creek, from what I’ve seen, are good people. Well, except your friend Eddie whats-his-name.”

“Eddie Sellars, and he is not my friend.” He’s also not rich, but I leave that addendum off. The conversation dies between us, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done something wrong. Josie tents her fingers, averts her gaze and purses her lips.

“What just happened?” I say.

“Honestly, I didn’t like what happened in the ballroom at The Lodge the other day.”

“With Eddie?”

“Yes, with Eddie.”

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