bathed her senses when she returned from delivering the dogs upstairs for the evening.
The mirror beside the door reflected the confident eyes of a woman on a mission. A miracle, considering she was shaking in her heels. She ran a hand down the skimpy cocktail dress, resisting the urge to tug at the short hem. Viewed critically, with its miniscule straps, plunging bodice and I-dare-you hem, the siren red dress was an in-your-face statement. Through with waiting for Coop to follow through on those bejeezus kisses, tonight she’d be adding a new ingredient to the mix. Seduction was on the menu.
For days she bounced back and forth between “it’s time” and “it’s time to run”. Decision made, she was pulling out all the stops, starting with this sexy, little red number. If necessary, she would resort to some of that tripping. Cooper Reed would not be leaving the building until she’d had her way with him.
Pasting a bright smile on her face, she opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Coop’s lazy blue gaze skimmed from the top of her head to her three-inch heels and back up again. “Nice dress.”
“This old thing?”
She grinned when he smiled, and invited him in with a beckoning finger.
“Something smells good,” he commented, closing the door.
“I hope you don’t mind.” She lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “I felt the urge to cook.”
“If whatever I smell is half as good as your soup, I’m sure I won’t mind at all.”
“Would you like a drink?” she asked, moving toward the kitchen.
“What are you having?”
“I have a nice red to go along with the manicotti. It’s breathing on the counter, unless you’d like something else.”
“That’ll do. Shall I pour?”
“Thanks. Glasses are on the top shelf.” She pointed to a high, glass-fronted cabinet.
He moved toward the counter, and she stole the opportunity to give him the once-over. The tailored business suit did nothing to disguise the masculine grace of his movements. He reached high to pluck down two glasses, his linebacker shoulders flexing, and she swallowed.
Just when did I become such a rabid shoulder woman? The hem of his jacket shifted, and she dropped her gaze to the tight curve of male buttock the movement exposed. And a butt connoisseur ?
He turned to face her, two glasses of dark red wine in hand, and she blinked. A slow smile spread across his face as he held one out to her. She accepted the offered glass and he clinked the rims together.
“To dining in.”
The heat in his eyes seared her, and the already erratic thump of her heart kicked into overdrive.
“Mmm,” she hummed.
Good call, Brian! I might just be able to pull this off—if I don’t have a heart attack in the process.
Hip cocked against the counter, he sipped at the wine and glanced around. “No roommates tonight?”
“They’re upstairs visiting grandma and grandpa.”
He paused with the glass an inch from his mouth, his smile wry. “I just got a picture of Dad, attempting to bounce Pippin on his knee.”
She grinned, pulling the chilled Caesar salad from the fridge.
“I don’t know Sil well enough,” he continued, “but I can imagine Elliott’s reaction to hearing himself referred to as grandpa.”
“He likes Pippin.”
“One-hundred-sixty pounds of sharp teeth and uncontrollable enthusiasm? What’s not to like?” He chuckled at her smirk. “I was referring to the grandpa part.”
“Don’t you ever plan to have kids?” The question slipped out and she cringed. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “Forget I asked.”
“Why?” His intent gaze tangled with hers. “It’s a logical question. I haven’t given kids a lot of thought. Someday, I guess. What about you?”
“Someday, I guess,” she parroted. “Bring the wine, will you?”
She stepped past him, set the salad on the table, and sat down. He followed, taking the seat across from her, and accepted the plate she offered.
“That’s the thing
The mirror beside the door reflected the confident eyes of a woman on a mission. A miracle, considering she was shaking in her heels. She ran a hand down the skimpy cocktail dress, resisting the urge to tug at the short hem. Viewed critically, with its miniscule straps, plunging bodice and I-dare-you hem, the siren red dress was an in-your-face statement. Through with waiting for Coop to follow through on those bejeezus kisses, tonight she’d be adding a new ingredient to the mix. Seduction was on the menu.
For days she bounced back and forth between “it’s time” and “it’s time to run”. Decision made, she was pulling out all the stops, starting with this sexy, little red number. If necessary, she would resort to some of that tripping. Cooper Reed would not be leaving the building until she’d had her way with him.
Pasting a bright smile on her face, she opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Coop’s lazy blue gaze skimmed from the top of her head to her three-inch heels and back up again. “Nice dress.”
“This old thing?”
She grinned when he smiled, and invited him in with a beckoning finger.
“Something smells good,” he commented, closing the door.
“I hope you don’t mind.” She lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “I felt the urge to cook.”
“If whatever I smell is half as good as your soup, I’m sure I won’t mind at all.”
“Would you like a drink?” she asked, moving toward the kitchen.
“What are you having?”
“I have a nice red to go along with the manicotti. It’s breathing on the counter, unless you’d like something else.”
“That’ll do. Shall I pour?”
“Thanks. Glasses are on the top shelf.” She pointed to a high, glass-fronted cabinet.
He moved toward the counter, and she stole the opportunity to give him the once-over. The tailored business suit did nothing to disguise the masculine grace of his movements. He reached high to pluck down two glasses, his linebacker shoulders flexing, and she swallowed.
Just when did I become such a rabid shoulder woman? The hem of his jacket shifted, and she dropped her gaze to the tight curve of male buttock the movement exposed. And a butt connoisseur ?
He turned to face her, two glasses of dark red wine in hand, and she blinked. A slow smile spread across his face as he held one out to her. She accepted the offered glass and he clinked the rims together.
“To dining in.”
The heat in his eyes seared her, and the already erratic thump of her heart kicked into overdrive.
“Mmm,” she hummed.
Good call, Brian! I might just be able to pull this off—if I don’t have a heart attack in the process.
Hip cocked against the counter, he sipped at the wine and glanced around. “No roommates tonight?”
“They’re upstairs visiting grandma and grandpa.”
He paused with the glass an inch from his mouth, his smile wry. “I just got a picture of Dad, attempting to bounce Pippin on his knee.”
She grinned, pulling the chilled Caesar salad from the fridge.
“I don’t know Sil well enough,” he continued, “but I can imagine Elliott’s reaction to hearing himself referred to as grandpa.”
“He likes Pippin.”
“One-hundred-sixty pounds of sharp teeth and uncontrollable enthusiasm? What’s not to like?” He chuckled at her smirk. “I was referring to the grandpa part.”
“Don’t you ever plan to have kids?” The question slipped out and she cringed. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “Forget I asked.”
“Why?” His intent gaze tangled with hers. “It’s a logical question. I haven’t given kids a lot of thought. Someday, I guess. What about you?”
“Someday, I guess,” she parroted. “Bring the wine, will you?”
She stepped past him, set the salad on the table, and sat down. He followed, taking the seat across from her, and accepted the plate she offered.
“That’s the thing
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