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He seems nervous. “Later, babe.”
He almost pushes me onto the sofa, then pulls a bottle of red wine from the bar cabinet and unscrews the cap. “I hope you like it,” he says as he adds a few ounces to two glasses. He picks up the bottle and reads the label. “Says it’s a Meritage. Canadian.” He hands me one of the glasses and sits next to me on the sofa. “I couldn’t believe Canada made wine. Thought it was too cold there to grow grapes, but the guy at the wine store said it was one of their best. Ninety something points.”
He hands me one of the glasses, takes a sip of his and makes a face. “Fuckin’ knew that guy was lying. The only good thing from Canada is the poutine.”
“And Mikhael Hale.”
His eyes narrow. “Who the fuck is Mikhael Hale?”
“He’s a premier fashion designer. He’s dressed Beyonce, Winnie Harlow, and Bella and Gigi Hadid.” I smile as I take a sip of the wine. “The guy at the store wasn’t lying, Trigger, but I don’t think you really drink wine, do you?”
He takes another mouthful, this time choking as he swallows. “Never in my fuckin’ life, but I’d do anything for you.”
I take his glass and set it on the coffee table. “This wine is wonderful despite its Canadian roots, and if you can’t appreciate it, then I don’t want to share it with you. Go get a beer.”
He grins, gives me a hard kiss and stands. “It’s why I love you. You get me.”
“And I’ve got you.” I take another sip of the wine. It slides down my throat like chocolate on ice cream. “You’re all mine, lover.”
The intercom rings as he pops the top on a can of beer. “Be right back,” he says as he disappears.
I hear murmurs at the front door, then a few minutes later he materializes with several bags in his arms. “Hope you like Chinese,” he says passing by me towards the kitchen.
I trail after him with his beer, my wine glass, and of course the bottle.
“Sit,” he says as he places boxes on the kitchen bar top. “We got chow mien, chop suey, fried rice, ginger beef, lemon chicken, beef and broccoli.” He opens a few more cartons. “Something with cashews and shrimp, steamed rice.” He upends the almost empty bag. “Egg rolls and fortune cookies.”
I stare at the offerings. I’m a girl with a healthy appetite, but even I can’t eat that much. “This is a lot. I should have skipped lunch.”
He grins as he sets a plate in front of me and hands me a set of chopsticks. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I ordered a bunch of different food.”
He sits next to me, and we dig in. At least he does. I keep looking at the shiny kitchen, the oak hardwood floors, the French doors off the dining room that lead to a lush stone alcove that reminds me of Italy. I’m consumed by the heat from Trigger’s body, his heady scent of soap, engine oil and musk. His big hands as they dwarf the fork he’s holding. The smokiness of his eyes.
I’m in this beautiful townhouse that’s ours for at least a year. More if we want it. I grew up on an estate in a huge mansion, lived with a couple of boyfriends who had decent places, shared a dorm room with other students, but I’ve never had a place of my own.
Now I do and I’m sharing it with a man that makes me bubble with happiness and sets my body on fire.
“You’re not eating,” he points to my plate with his fork.
I grin. “I’m in love.”
“Better be with me,” he growls.
I pick up a piece of lemon chicken and hold it in the air. “I am absolutely in love with you, gorgeous, but you only win by a small margin over the shoe shelf in the walk-in closet.”
I pop the chicken into my mouth as I watch his grin grow.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Trigger
I’m so fuckin’ nervous I can barely eat two helpings of Chinese food. I don’t think Evanee senses it though because she keeps looking around the kitchen, then craning her neck to look down the hall to the front door, around the corner at the living room, and outside to the little terrace with all the plants.
I’ve never been this happy in my life. I got the most amazing woman sitting next to me, got her a house she absolutely loves. And she gets who I am. I drink beer, ride a bike, eat Chinese food and she embraces it all.
I want to swipe the cartons off the bar top, lay her on it and eat her out. Who needs food when I’ve got the most delicious woman in the world sitting next to me? I get a boner and almost hop off my chair and let nature take its course.
But I don’t. Not yet, buddy, I say to my dick.
