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There's nothing wrong with that. I kind of like it. Maybe once I know how to handle it, I’d appreciate it a little more. But I’d hurt him, even though I hadn't meant to hurt him.
The door next to my bedroom is closed, so I figure it definitely is his office. My heart feels like it's in my throat as I lift a fist and knock.
He calls out instantly, “Yeah?”
I'm not sure if ‘yeah’ means I have permission to enter, but I twist the knob anyway. The door opens and I see him instantly. He's sitting; a big man behind a big desk. His hair looks mussed, like he's run his fingers through more than once. His eyes, even though I'm sure he has to be tired after sitting here staring at a computer for hours, are sharp on me. Tingles erupt on my skin as his gaze moves from my body, landing on the plate.
“You baked,” he observes.
“You couldn't smell it? I mean, I know you have the door closed, but surely you smelled the sweet aroma of baking in your kitchen?”
I’m trying to be funny, but he doesn't crack a smile. “I was distracted. I’ve been working.”
“Right,” I breathe, repeat, “Right.” Pulling in a shaky breath, I force a smile that feels brittle and shaky as I cross the distance between us. “I brought you a plate. I thought—I thought maybe since you like sugar in your coffee that you also might like sweets. It's a peace offering.”
I slide the plate across the desk, but his eyes stay fixed on my face. He does this thing where he looks at me with the intensity of a black hole. I feel like he's pulling me in. Like there's nowhere I can run. Nothing I can escape to. If there's a time where I ever do fall in, I'm not sure I'll ever climb back out.I'm not sure I would want to.
There could be peace in that darkness…
“What do I need a peace offering for, Sadie?” My heart clenches. I feel emotion clog my throat because I like when he calls me Sunshine better than Sadie.
“I didn't mean it. Not the way that it came out,” I explain, feeling pathetic.
He leans back in his chair. He angles his jaw up to me, his expression one of dark thought as he crosses thick arms over a thicker chest. “Mean what?”
I shift. He's really going to make me do this. “I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to escape. I don't.”
One brow arches. “You don't?”
“No, I don't.” I close my fists nervously over the cuffs of my sleeves. “I'm quite happy here.”
I can't be certain, but I think that's surprise that flashes in his eyes.
“You're happy here?”
“Yes. Very.” I gesture around me. “You have a lovely home. You have an amazing kitchen—I mean, you have a double wall oven.” I nod to the cookies on the plate. “My favorite are the Whirls.”
He lifts a big hand, fingering the cookies. “These?”
He doesn’t wait for my reply as he lifts the cookie to his mouth, taking a big bite.
I’ll start by saying that I’ve never had a serious boyfriend, and therefore, apart from Dad, I’ve never cooked for a man. Not ever. Watching Nick take a big bite out of something I’d made—for him—it’s affecting.
My stomach literally pulses, and I feel an intense heat sweep through my entire body. In the back of my mind, I know what this is. I just don’t want to know. Because like everything else in my life as of late, it’s insane. That pulse and this heat—it’s arousal. Desire. Hunger…
I want this man. My body wants him.
My heart might even want him. I’m not sure. My thoughts feel muddled and confused.
I’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours and he’s accomplished what no man in my life has accomplished in my twenty-two years.
How can this be?
His voice, deep and rumbly and decadent infiltrates my thoughts. “Cookies are good, Sadie. Really good.”
“I thought it was Sunshine,” I say, and am flooded by instant regret.
I hadn’t meant to let him know that I like it when he calls me Sunshine. It's silly. It's inappropriate. And it's not something strangers say to each other.
