she was in when she came knocking on Dean’s door, she didn’t think he’d mind seeing her clothes off-kilter.
Feeling a bit more together, she took a steadying breath and walked out into the hallway. Immediately, a stocky red dog circled her ankles. “Hey, buddy,” she murmured as she bent forward to stroke his head.
“Rigby, leave the woman alone!” shouted Dean from the kitchen.
The dog obediently switched his attention back to the kitchen and scurried away. Had Rigby been there before she’d gone into the bathroom? Victoria frowned and tried to force her head to clear. Sane. Just be sane , she told herself.
She followed the clanking of dishes to where Dean was throwing some plates into the dishwasher. He must’ve heard her approach because he turned around when she entered.
“Sorry for the mess,” he said with a sheepish grin.
There was so little counter space, it was almost impossible not to have a mess. Everything looked clean enough, but the microwave, toaster, and small stack of mail gave the room even more of a claustrophobic feel. Even in her Manhattan apartment, the kitchen was bigger. But maybe it just looked small because Dean took up so much room.
He wore jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, and she’d never met someone who looked so good in casual clothes. As he reached up to pull out a clean set of dishes, his muscles moved beneath the thin cotton fabric and Victoria’s mouth went dry.
She knew exactly how great he looked without a shirt. How those muscles felt under her fingers as he thrust in and out of her. Her heart beat faster and heat crept up her cheeks. Her fingers rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to force the thoughts out of her head. Dean and she had both agreed anything between them was over.
“Food should be ready in ten minutes,” he said over his shoulder. “Did you want anything to drink? I have beer, water, and diet soda.””
“Beer.” She almost wished he had something stronger but didn’t want to push his kindness any further.
He pulled two glass bottles out of the fridge and popped off the caps. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he moved. Somehow this seemed so much more intimate than any of the other times they’d been together.
Here in his home. In his domain.
He handed her a bottle and she wrapped her lips around the top to take a deep gulp. After taking a deep gulp, she asked, “Where’s Katy?” Remember, the young girl who could walk in at any moment and was the exact reason she shouldn’t be thinking about using Dean in all the ways her mind remembered?
“She’s at a friend’s for the night,” he said.
Shit. There went that idea. “It’s cool that you have the place to yourself.”
His eyes darkened and she mentally kicked herself. Now he was thinking of sex too. Damn it. Her father just died. She should be home, surrounded by work or a box of tissues or both. Not here in a tiny kitchen with the sexiest man she’d ever met.
“We have it to ourselves,” he corrected, his voice deep and husky.
She took another deep gulp of beer. “That’s nice to know.” Her mind swirled with thoughts she wasn’t supposed to be having. Stop looking at his stomach. Stop looking at his shoulders. Just talk to him like a normal person .
Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. “If you want, I can turn on the TV while I finish cooking,” he offered.
Great. Now he was trying to get her out of the kitchen. If she wanted to sit alone in front of the television, she would have gone back to her own apartment. She needed this contact. She needed it from someone she didn’t have a massive history with like Terry, who wanted something from her, or Simon, who she paid to listen to her. Dean, for whatever reason, seemed to actually enjoy being around her. Sure, she paid him too, but it was different. He saved her before he knew she’d pay him, and he was quick enough to let her stay. But he could just pity her.
“Victoria, just relax.
Feeling a bit more together, she took a steadying breath and walked out into the hallway. Immediately, a stocky red dog circled her ankles. “Hey, buddy,” she murmured as she bent forward to stroke his head.
“Rigby, leave the woman alone!” shouted Dean from the kitchen.
The dog obediently switched his attention back to the kitchen and scurried away. Had Rigby been there before she’d gone into the bathroom? Victoria frowned and tried to force her head to clear. Sane. Just be sane , she told herself.
She followed the clanking of dishes to where Dean was throwing some plates into the dishwasher. He must’ve heard her approach because he turned around when she entered.
“Sorry for the mess,” he said with a sheepish grin.
There was so little counter space, it was almost impossible not to have a mess. Everything looked clean enough, but the microwave, toaster, and small stack of mail gave the room even more of a claustrophobic feel. Even in her Manhattan apartment, the kitchen was bigger. But maybe it just looked small because Dean took up so much room.
He wore jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, and she’d never met someone who looked so good in casual clothes. As he reached up to pull out a clean set of dishes, his muscles moved beneath the thin cotton fabric and Victoria’s mouth went dry.
She knew exactly how great he looked without a shirt. How those muscles felt under her fingers as he thrust in and out of her. Her heart beat faster and heat crept up her cheeks. Her fingers rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to force the thoughts out of her head. Dean and she had both agreed anything between them was over.
“Food should be ready in ten minutes,” he said over his shoulder. “Did you want anything to drink? I have beer, water, and diet soda.””
“Beer.” She almost wished he had something stronger but didn’t want to push his kindness any further.
He pulled two glass bottles out of the fridge and popped off the caps. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he moved. Somehow this seemed so much more intimate than any of the other times they’d been together.
Here in his home. In his domain.
He handed her a bottle and she wrapped her lips around the top to take a deep gulp. After taking a deep gulp, she asked, “Where’s Katy?” Remember, the young girl who could walk in at any moment and was the exact reason she shouldn’t be thinking about using Dean in all the ways her mind remembered?
“She’s at a friend’s for the night,” he said.
Shit. There went that idea. “It’s cool that you have the place to yourself.”
His eyes darkened and she mentally kicked herself. Now he was thinking of sex too. Damn it. Her father just died. She should be home, surrounded by work or a box of tissues or both. Not here in a tiny kitchen with the sexiest man she’d ever met.
“We have it to ourselves,” he corrected, his voice deep and husky.
She took another deep gulp of beer. “That’s nice to know.” Her mind swirled with thoughts she wasn’t supposed to be having. Stop looking at his stomach. Stop looking at his shoulders. Just talk to him like a normal person .
Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. “If you want, I can turn on the TV while I finish cooking,” he offered.
Great. Now he was trying to get her out of the kitchen. If she wanted to sit alone in front of the television, she would have gone back to her own apartment. She needed this contact. She needed it from someone she didn’t have a massive history with like Terry, who wanted something from her, or Simon, who she paid to listen to her. Dean, for whatever reason, seemed to actually enjoy being around her. Sure, she paid him too, but it was different. He saved her before he knew she’d pay him, and he was quick enough to let her stay. But he could just pity her.
“Victoria, just relax.
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