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And he was fucking grinning at me.Grinning. Showing off a white, slightly crooked smile.
“They always look at the significant other first,” he said easily, not at all perturbed by my words or my tone.
“I can charm my way out of it,” I informed him. “You Yanks are enamored with the accent. And I have great tits.”
Kip’s gaze flickered to my chest area. “You have wonderful tits,” he agreed.
My pussy tingled.
Just a little.
But a little was far too much.
We were getting off track.
“What you did in the bakery today was not fucking okay,” I stated firmly, narrowing my eyes.
“What did I do?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I know I ordered six cookies, but I promise only four of them were for me. Plus, Nora is a magician. And I am blessed with a fast metabolism.” He gestured down to his perfect fucking body.
“This isn’t about the cookies,” I snapped. “Butof courseyou have a fast metabolism. Because nature yet again rewards men with eyelashes and hair shades that women have to pay a fuckload for,” I muttered.
Kip shrugged. “I’ll take it up with God when I meet her.”
Okay, this was getting really off track.
“You cannot kiss me in the bakery,” I told him. “Ever again. It’s twice now that you’ve stuck your tongue down my throat in my place of employment.”
Kip strolled to the fridge, taking out one of the many beers that was now stocked in there. I drank beer also, but I never actually stocked my fridge with it so efficiently.
He’d been shopping. Not just for beer but a bunch of food too.
“The first time was our wedding, so that doesn’t exactly count,” he said… after cracking the top of the bottle open on my countertops.
“Hey!” I cried. “Those are my quartz fucking countertops.”
Kip rested his hip against the counter, taking a long chug of his beer as he regarded me. “Technically it’smycountertop,” he corrected.
Red tinged my vision.
“You really are trying to get me to dissolve you in a vat of acid after I’ve bludgeoned you with this wine bottle,” I stated.
Kip smirked at me.
“I’m serious,” I insisted, laying my hands flat on the counter. “We need rules. I know we’ve got to play some kind of part, but that part does not need to involve PDA. We’ve got a long game to play, and setting a precedent for tongue hockey every time we see each other really isn’t going to work for me. Like at all.”
He raised his brow. “You’re sure it’s not gonna work for you?” he asked. “Because it seemed like it was working for you this morning.”
That fucking asshole.
I snatched my wineglass and took a long gulp. “I’m really sure it’s not gonna work for me. And I assure you, whatever you were feeling this morning was in your fucking head.” I looked him up and down. “Whichever one of them has more brains.”
Kip chuckled. “You’ll find us both pleasantly intelligent.”
I did not smile. “No more kissing,” I declared before walking outside, nabbing my bottle on the way past.
* * *
After the first day, the first rule was created.
