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She loved the gravelly tone of his voice. It gave her a hint of how turned on he was. She had done that to him. “I’m sorry,” she replied and let a naughty smile curve her lips.
“Don’t tease me now,” he warned. “I have a delicious meal planned, and if there’re any more kisses like that one, it’ll end up going to waste.”
She reached out and flattened her palm against the solid wall of his chest, directly over his heart. Feeling the fast and frantic rhythm made her own heart speed up, matching his beat for beat. “I wouldn’t want that,” she replied as she took a moment to collect herself. “So, um, I know you said you had everything covered, but I brought a bottle of wine anyway.” Marquetta held up the brown tote that contained the bottle she’d picked up at the wine store she’d stopped off at on her way over. “Is Chianti okay?”
Jensen took the bag from her outstretched hand and peered inside. He quirked a brow at her. “Perfect, thanks.” He winked and asked, “Want the fifty-cent tour?”
“Sure.” Marquetta’s heart sped up as Jensen grinned down at her. It seemed her insides turned to pudding every time the man looked at her.
He moved to the side to allow her to precede him. “In case you couldn’t tell, this is the living room.”
The floors were a gorgeous dark wood. A palm-leaf-style ceiling fan hung from the ceiling. Marquetta stepped into the spacious area, immediately impressed with the large and comfortable-looking brown-leather sofa and love seat. A pair of large bookshelves stood on either side of a big fireplace. She imagined how cozy the room would be in the winter, with a warm fire burning and her cuddled up close to Jensen. The furnishings weren’t anything extravagant, but they suited him. She strode over to the books and picked one up. “You like Stephen King?”
He shrugged. “On occasion. Although he does have a pretty twisted imagination.”
She stared at all the books with nothing short of envy. “I’ve always loved to read. Romance novels mostly. King’s books tend to keep me up at night.” She put the book back and said, “Your home is surprisingly homey.”
He laughed. “What were you expecting?”
Her cheeks filled with heat as she walked toward him. “I guess something more…bacheloresque.”
Jensen tsked. “Just goes to show that you shouldn’t assume things, especially when it comes to me.”
“You’re a constant surprise, that’s for sure,” she admitted.
He held up the tote. “How about I show you the kitchen next? You can pour the wine while I finish up dinner.”
Marquetta’s gaze went straight to Jensen’s butt as he turned and headed toward the arched entryway leading to the other room. His low-slung jeans were mouthwateringly snug and sexy. Of course, it wouldn’t matter whether the man wore dress slacks, workout shorts or jeans, Jensen Kershaw simply had the finest ass she’d ever laid eyes on. “Um, sounds good,” she answered.
He glanced over his shoulder, and she held her breath, afraid she’d been caught staring. When he shook his head and mumbled something incoherent, she sighed. Seriously, woman, have some self-control.
Jensen had insisted on cooking for her. Like any normal woman spending time with a good-looking man, Marquetta saw it as the perfect opportunity to find out more about him. “So, you and your brother are pretty close?”
He dipped his finger in a pan of red sauce on the stove and tasted it. “We have our fair share of fights, but we get along okay.”
“And is it just the two of you?”
“Yep. Mom and Dad moved to Arizona about five years ago. Mom’s arthritis kept getting worse, and the lack of humidity out West makes it more bearable.”
“Do you visit them often?”
“We visit on holidays and all that, but I suppose it’s not quite the same as having them here.”
Marquetta started to ask about his new business venture, but before she could get the words out of her mouth a big furry wolf dog entered the kitchen. She froze at the ferocious sight of him padding toward her. “Uh, is he friendly?” The animal sniffed the air, then peered over at her and tilted his head as if trying to figure out if she was friend or foe.
“Aw, he’s a big ol’ teddy bear, aren’t you, Dozer?” The dog meandered over to where Jensen stood filling tube-shaped pasta with a cheese mixture. When he stared up at his master and wagged his tail, Jensen said, “I’d pet you, buddy, but my hands are full, and I don’t think our pretty guest would appreciate dog hair in her food.”
“Dozer?”
“He’s a German shepherd/husky mix. And my brother came up with the goofy name.” He looked over at her. “From the time Dozer was a little pup, he slept practically all the time. It didn’t take me long to figure out he was going to be useless as a guard dog.”
She laughed when the big bear of an animal rubbed up against her thigh, begging to have his ears rubbed. Unable to resist, Marquetta reached down and scratched. “Considering he didn’t greet me with a bark and a snarl, I see your point.”
Jensen placed the manicotti into a deep-dish pan, then slid it into the oven. “That needs to bake for a few minutes or so.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “We have a little time. I hope you don’t mind.” He washed his hands before joining her at the table.
Dozer immediately left her side and plopped his front half onto Jensen’s lap. Jensen gave him a loving rub and Marquetta was slightly jealous of the mutt. “You shouldn’t be up at the table, but you’re aware of that, aren’t you?”
She laughed when Dozer got down and came back over to her, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “He’s got you wrapped around his pa
