Page 58 of Sweet Temptation

“I noticed your music room isn’t soundproofed.”

I raised an eyebrow, daring him to complain about that. “No, it’s not.”

“Interesting, that you’d go to the expense of soundproofing the studio, when you live alone.”

“Was that a question?”

“I guess I’m wondering why you’d do that. Or if you’ve always lived here alone.”

“You don’t miss much, do you?”

“I’m not paid to miss much,” he said.

I started eating again in silence. But I could hear my chewing too, and it was weird. It wasn’t that silence made me uncomfortable; it was that when I felt uncomfortable, silence made it worse.

“Okay,” I said, “here’s the story. I bought this place just over three years ago. I was with someone at the time, and possibly optimistic that it might last. It didn’t. He was a mortgage broker who snorted coke at lunch meetings and started drinking at breakfast. I should’ve known it wasn’t gonna work out. But hey, love can be blind, right?”

Ronan didn’t say anything, but he was still watching me with those gorgeous, assessing eyes, so I went on.

“When I bought the house, I had a lot of renovations done, and I’d already started on the studio when we broke up. I decided to just keep going with the plans as they were, soundproofing and all.” I shrugged. “Maybe I figured some future boyfriend would appreciate it. I get loud when I’m in the zone.” I glanced at him. “It’s not entirely selfless, though. I practice my vocals down there. I hate people overhearing that.”

He considered that, the gears turning. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m self-conscious about my singing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” I thought about that. “Maybe because it’s organic? And when it comes out of my body and I’m just practicing, I’m not fixing it or enhancing it. It’s just me, I don’t know… naked.” I glanced at him again. I didn’t like admitting my weaknesses, but I could be humble. I couldn’t exactly pretend I was vocalist of the year when I was standing next to Ashley Player. “I’m not the world’s greatest vocalist. It’s something I’m working on.”

Ronan said nothing else, just listening.

“How did we get onto this?” I asked, with a small laugh. “I don’t usually talk much about my exes or my insecurities. What black magic have you cast?”

“It’s a rare gift,” he said. And there was that subtle, dry-as-hell sass again.

“Seriously. I don’t even want you here and you’re getting me to talk to you. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Actually, maybe it’s because you don’t say much. It makes me want to talk more than I already do, which is a lot.”

He said nothing.

I realized I hadn’t gotten us a drink, so I went to pour us each a glass of water. I put one in front of him. He nodded a thanks, since his mouth was full. His food was disappearing much faster than mine was.

I slid back onto my stool.

“So…” I said, when he remained silent. Because damn, it was true. His silence made me want to talk.

Was that a technique of his to extract information from me? Or was he really just a quiet guy?

“Are you always a man of such few words?”

“I like to think of myself as a man of well-chosen words.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I can live like this.”

He chuckled a little.

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