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Other than a couch and two chairs with a coffee table arranged in the middle, there isn’t much to see. It almost resembles a model unit that’s left purposefully bare. There aren’t any decorations. No pictures or unique touches to reflect his personality. Not even a speck of dust. I didn’t notice before, too focused on what he had below the belt to pay attention to much else.
“You’re very tidy,” I comment.
His chuckle reaches me from where he remains out of sight. “Is that the polite method of asking where my shit is?”
“I feel like I’m not the first to notice.”
“My mom and sister nag me relentlessly.” He sidles up next to me with two mason jars in his hands. “Hope you like it.”
The words etched into the side of mine deserves to be read aloud. “I love to wrap my hands around it, suck hard, and swallow.”
That sneaky dimple carves into his cheek as he smirks. “Bought that special for you.”
“Very fitting.” A thought sprouts and grows roots as I clutch my gift. “Can we take a selfie?”
“As if I’d ever deny you.”
I whip out my phone and lift the screen to the optimal angle. Garrett wraps himself around me, his cheek plastered against mine. The jostling almost has me spilling my beverage. Laughter spews from me as I capture the moment.
My thumb swipes to inspect the evidence of our coupledom. “Perfect.”
“Only because you’re in it.”
“Nope, you light up the view. Our future is bright thanks to you.” Damn, that’s poetic.
He’s quiet for a beat, then several more. His gaze volleys from me to the plain walls like a tennis ball. I almost wonder if he’s merged into my lane of planning. The lull trickles onward. I sip my drink to stop myself from filling the void. The fruity beer catches me by surprise.
“Oh, that’s different.”
“Juicy Peach shandy,” he absently replies. His cogs are still grinding over whatever scheme he’s concocting.
Rather than interrupt by prying, I stay on track. “Is this a local—?”
“You should move in.”
Liquid dribbles from my lips while I mentally repeat his impulsive suggestion. “Aren’t we still in the trial phase of our relationship?”
“Are we? I kinda figured you’d agreed to be mine in a permanent sense. We can flip this sparse wasteland into a real home.”
I rack my brain for that conversation. It doesn’t add up. Not that I’m bothered in the least. This just feels like we’ve switched roles. He isn’t supposed to be the one taking giant leaps. The fryer beeps to release me from this wonky situation.
“We’ll discuss relocating you later. My woman is hungry.” Garrett backs into the kitchen to fetch my food.
A rich aroma fills the air and I moan. In the next instant, an overflowing plate appears on a wooden cart that’s probably used as a dining table. I move on autopilot, steered by cravings. My mind is still reeling, too preoccupied to notice the steam rising off the crispy goodness.
I snatch one and take a huge bite. Regret immediately singes me. “Owwww, crap. It’s hot.”
He parks himself on a stool while I fan my tongue. “A quick blow can go a long way.”
“Speaking from experience?” But I listen to the advice before chomping down again.
There’s no response from him. Most likely due to his attention feasting on my mouth. A pleased mumble compliments the chef as I ingest the greasy delight. I lick my fingers before snagging the next one.
“Damn, Peaches. Want some protein in your diet?” He shifts on the seat, a noticeable bulge tenting his shorts.
“Is someone jealous?” My grin spreads around a third onion ring.
“Watching you eat something I cooked—regardless of the preparation—is causing a very primal reaction. You’re extremely arousing.” His palm grips the hard ridge, squeezing tight enough to earn a hiss.
