Page 31 of I'm Not His Style

“What a shame. It’s one of the food groups that regularly makes me gag.”

“There are more than one that fall into that category?”

“Spicy tikka masala, for one.”

Rhett laughed. “Can you give me five minutes? I need to wash off the gym. The remote is on the coffee table if you want to watch something.”

I wouldn’t mind watching anything that featured him, but that was probably weird. “Okay.”

He left, and I heard the shower turn on in the other room. I settled onto the semi-comfortable sofa and pulled up a channel showing oldFriendsreruns.

I didn’t know how much time passed until Rhett returned in different joggers and a different T-shirt, but it hadn’t seemed like very long. He looked through the bags he’d left on the table, then brought them to the couch, pulling everything out and arraying the small feast on the coffee table. “You brought three rolls for one man? Or you were planning to suffer through one of them with me?”

I shrugged. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “All three restaurants claimed to have the best lobster rolls in town, and their reviews each supported them. I didn’t know which one to go for, so I got you all three. You can play a game if you want. Rate them, and we’ll know who the real winner is.”

He stared at me for so long I was beginning to grow self-conscious. “Did you do the same thing with the cake?”

“You mean the mush?” There was zero chance the pie escaped that splat unscathed. “Yeah. I don’t mind helping you rate those, though.”

“Okay, deal.”

He reached for the first to-go container, and I grabbed his firm forearm, stilling it. “Listen, I was trying to make up for what happened to you today with the whole date fiasco, but I realize you’re on a diet or something, and I don’t want to mess with that if it’s important to you. Don’t feel obligated to eat these. I’m sure I can find someone else willing to force them down in this hotel.”

Rhett looked from my eyes to where my hand was grasping his toned, warm forearm, and I immediately retracted my hold. “I’m not training for a new movie or anything. I can cheat if I want to.”

I tucked my chin. “If you’re not training, why the heck are you eating the way you are?”

“Why not? Food is just fuel. I need it for energy, and if I follow this diet, I stay ready for whatever roles pop up.”

It was a career choice, then, and not a result of madam dictator. I mean, Bridget. This manchoseto eat bland chicken and grass. “In that case—” I reached for the lobster roll closest to me and started putting it back in the bag.

“No, you don’t.” He took my hand off the to-go container, and I was pretty sure fire leaped from his skin to mine.

“I will not be responsible for sabotaging your career. Women all over America will hunt me down and make me regret it.”

Rhett laughed, pushing me gently back on the sofa until I was leaning all the way back. He hovered slightly over me. “Don’t touch my lobster rolls, lady.”

His blue eyes hovering over mine made my breath catch. Was he feeling the energy buzzing here too? “The general public will thank me. Think of Betsy, Rhett.”

“She did seem to enjoy that shirtless picture I signed.”

I grinned. Warmth bled into my chest; the pressure of Rhett playfully pushing me back somehow made me feel both heavy and weightless simultaneously. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Chad. Jax. Bridget.”

“Bridget’s still a woman.”

“Who sees me in terms of dollar signs,” he muttered, backing off. He went for the food, and I didn’t stop him this time.

I readjusted my position, leaning back against the pillows and turning my attention to the TV while he ate. When Rhett stood and took the leftover lobster rolls to the fridge, I followed his movements with my eyes. “So, which one was the winner?”

“The first one, hands down. But I can’t complain about any of them.” He gave a chef’s kiss that had me grinning. “That was the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks.”

“I’ll try not to be offended on Torch of India’s behalf.”

“Okay, second-best thing.”

He sat next to me, closer this time than he’d been before, and handed me a water bottle before uncapping his own and drinking half of it.

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