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And humming. From what sounds like a man, singing along to it.
Then something else hits me. Doubt.
In myself.
“Oh, shoot,” I panic under my breath, pulling out my phone from my purse, quickly tapping open my calendar. Swiping left and right, I click on today’s date to check if I rented out the apartment and forgot to block it off.
Something I have never done before.
“Evening, Tiger.” Ash’s voice cuts through my moment of crisis.
Snapping my head up, he greets me with a huge smile. “Here, I’ll take that.” Lifting my purse off my bent forearm, he leans in, kisses me on the cheek, then slides the handle down and off my arm.
Dumbfounded as to what he’s doing in the apartment, I watch him walk back into the open kitchen area, still wearing what he had on earlier, although he’s now barefoot, and I know he’s doing that on purpose because I have a thing for him walking around barefoot and in jeans. I don’t know why it’s so sexy, but it is.
Shirtless is also a bonus.
I’m still standing in the open doorway holding my phone and staring at him when he calls over his shoulder, “Dinner will be ready in an hour. I ran you a bath.” He casually places my purse on the countertop as he passes, then turns his attention to the steamy hot pot on top of the stove to stir the food he’s cooking. “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough to feed the hockey team.” He chuckles at his own joke, maneuvering around the kitchen smoothly from cabinet to drawer.
“Are you coming in?” he asks, uncorking the bottle of red wine resting on the counter that was not there this morning, then fills two glasses.
In a daze like dream, I walk over to the kitchen island and stand opposite him. Laying my hands flat on top of the white quartz marble, I ask, “What are you doing?”
“Making dinner.” He lifts a glass full of deep red wine and passes it to me.
I push my phone into the pocket of my taupe-colored overcoat, then take a sip. The sweet black cherry and marzipan spiced alcohol makes me pucker my lips.
“45 Cellars?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Your favorite wine from your favorite local vineyard.”
I swirl the red-black liquid around the glass. “Did you drive over an hour and back again to get this for me today?”
He nods. Taking a sip of his own, he looks blissfully happy as he surveys me over the lip of his glass. Blue eyes gleaming, I know that look. He’s up to something.
“Okay.” I look around at the apartment scattered with lit fragranced candles, which were clearly purchased by him. As well as the food.
“I let myself in with the spare key.”
My eyes land back on him. “Right.” I can’t figure out what to say.
He points at the refrigerator. “I stocked up and bought groceries.”
“Ash, we need to—” He doesn’t let me finish.
“Your bath is getting cold.” I look at the warm yellow lighting peeking through the bathroom doorway. “Take your wine with you.” He picks up the sharp paring knife and slices the vegetables on top of the wooden butcher’s block.
“Are you having dinner with me?” I ask hopefully.
He stops mid chop and looks up. “Only if you want me to.”
“I do.” I’d love that.
The knife cuts through the rest of the carrot, making a whick sound, a sexy lazy smile shaping his lips into an upward curve.
I’ve always loved his mouth. Truthfully, I’ve always loved every part of his body.
Running my finger over my bottom lip, I check I’m not drooling. My attraction to him has never died.
