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I laugh and get up to pull out the mountain of takeout menus from a drawer. “I dial.”
“Good. I would hate to think you were too perfect.”
“Perfect?” I quip with a grin.
“Yes. Hot body. Amazing in the sack. You seem somewhat competent. I would hate to know you cooked as well.”
“Why?”
“Because then you would be the total package,” she says with a laugh.
“Why would that be bad?
“Because…it would be hard to resist you.”
I can’t help but walk over to her and remind her of exactly what she was trying to resist. I lean down and plant a kiss on her that curls her toes. When I pull back, I can see the desire in her eyes. “Baby, you haven’t been able to resist me since the minute you laid eyes on me.”
She shoves at me, laughing and shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I believe it’s the other way around.”
“How about pizza?”
“Pizza works. Thin crust.”
“That’s not pizza,” I mutter as I dial the number. "The blasphemy," I shake my head while working my way through the automated menu. "Thin crust pizza is just a glorified cracker with toppings."
She rolls her eyes at me, her gaze lighting up with mischief. "And deep dish isn't just tomato soup, topped with cheese in a bread bowl?"
Now I'm the one laughing. "Touché."
Thirty minutes later, we’re at the table with a hot, deep-dish pepperoni. Paige dug around in my kitchen cabinets and found plates.
Paige insists on using a fork, and I can't help but roll my eyes at her prissy behavior. “Want another beer?” I ask as I get one for myself.
“No, thanks.”
I take a long swig to wash down the pizza, trying to ignore the way she's getting under my skin. I can't deny that there's something about her that's incredibly attractive to me, despite her uptight demeanor. Maybe it's the way she holds herself, with a fierce determination, that I can't help but admire. Or maybe it's the fire in her eyes, the way she refuses to back down from a challenge. She is exactly the kind of woman I would normally never be interested in.
“This is exactly really good pizza,” she smiles.
“The best in the Seattle area. Not as good as what you’ll get in Chicago. But we'll have to make do for now."
We sit in comfortable silence, quietly enjoying the pizza and each other's company. It's a strange feeling, this calm between us, as if we've known each other for longer than just a few days. But it feels right, like a piece of a puzzle finally finding its place.
"I've never been to Chicago," Paige says wistfully. "Always wanted to try their deep-dish. But I grew up in New York and some would argue that’s the better pizza."
I look at her, watching her. "Maybe we can go one day. You can get your real deep-dish fix."
She laughs at that. “I flew to get home, but I’m not sure I’m going to be jumping on any airplanes anytime soon.”
“You did fine on the way here,” I remind her.
“Because I was beyond exhausted and passed out,” she laughs.
“Alright, I get it. Me being the total package and all, you’re afraid you’re going to fall for me if you keep spending time with me.”
“You’re obnoxious. And cocky.”
“I know,” I wink.
