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“Hmm.” He thinks it over, brushing his fingers over his scruffy jawline. “Alright, fine. But lunch is in an hour then.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head, laughing at his persistence. I open the dishwasher and load it, add in the detergent, then hit start.
Eli silently watches me with an amused expression as he leans against the counter, crossing his ankles.
“What?” I ask. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Just thinking how sexy you look right now.” I was certain he was going to make some smart-ass comment about me using the dishwasher properly, but I hadn’t expected that.
I look down at my outfit, which consists of the same clothes I wore to bed. Normally, I’d never be caught wearing loungewear around anyone other than my family, but I’m comfortable around Eli. Plus, he doesn’t care about any of that.
“You mean, greasy hair and an unwashed face are your kink?” I release a dramatic gasp. “Who knew?”
“Actually, I was thinking you being all domestic and shit makes me horny as fuck.”
I set my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him. “Let me guess, you want your woman barefoot and pregnant, am I right? A traditional housewife, dinner on the table at six every night, sex on Saturday nights after SNL.”
“Oh, there’d be sex every night,” he retorts. “Especially if I want to keep you knocked up.”
“Well, sorry to burst your 1950s era bubble, but I plan to have a career,” I state matter-of-factly.
His shoulders rise and fall. “So? Have a career. You can be a mom and wife at the same time. Millions of women do.”
“And what will you do? Chop wood and fix light bulbs while I raise the kids and bring home the bacon?”
He smirks. “I’ll pick up the kids from school, take them to the park to play, then bring them home. I’ll give them a bath, then read them a bedtime story. Once they’re asleep, I’ll pleasure my wife and make sure she goes to bed completely satisfied.”
“Wow. Sounds like you have it all figured out.”
He bobs his head back and forth, pushing off the counter. “Except for a few minor details.”
“Like what? Pussy or anal?”
His cocky smirk returns as he takes a step toward me. “Is everything about sex for you?”
I roll my eyes, leaning against the island. “What then?”
“I’d prefer to marry a woman who wants me as much as I want her. I don’t mind the chase, the challenges even, but I don’t want to constantly second-guess her feelings for me.”
A lump forms in my throat, and butterflies swarm in my stomach. His reference is about me, and the way I’ve been hot and cold. It’s no wonder he’s confused.
Hell, I was confused by the way I acted just days ago.
“So what could she say or do to help alleviate those fears?” Our eyes lock on each other, and my rapid breathing echoes between us.
“She could be honest,” he states, closing the gap until he’s standing in front of me.
Swallowing hard, I suck in my lower lip and feel the heat from his gaze burn into my skin. He wants a real answer—not based on just the physical aspects but the emotional too—and I’ve never been good at that. I’ve struggled with who to trust and how much of myself to give to keep from getting hurt. Growing up, I had numerous friends who I thought would be my ride or dies, but they’d use me, then toss me out like trash. That emotional wall was built to help protect myself. But if anyone’s capable and worthy of protecting my heart, it’s Eli.
“I want you,” I admit. “Even through the constant arguing and teasing, I’ve wanted you. I convinced myself it’d never happen, so I pushed you away instead, but don’t think for a moment I didn’t care about you or wasn’t attracted to you. I was and still am.”
I inhale sharply as he palms my face and brings his mouth close. Not quite touching, but just enough to feel his hot breath against my lips.
“I never want us to stop arguing or teasing each other because that means the fire is still there. We’re both a little hotheaded but at the same time, down to earth and easygoing. We share a lot of common traits but have a lot of opposite interests. I’m someone who enjoys cooking, and you’re someone who enjoys eating.”
“So, what you mean is we’re a match made in heaven?” I smile.
He plucks the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Precisely.”
I gulp. “Are you going to kiss me yet?”
“I was thinking about it.” His deep voice rumbles low in his throat, sending vibrations between my legs.
“What are you waiting for?” I challenge, feeling more anxious with each passing second.
“To see if you’re going to change your mind.”
