Page 24 of Bedding the Biker Next Door

“I’m a big fan of Chicken Alfredo.” Cole flipped on the lamp. “Excuse the mess, I was packing.”

“So I see. Do you mind if I heat this up? I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but I’m starving.”

“Sure, of course.” He watched her breeze across the floor and head into the kitchen where she proceeded to warm up the dinner in the microwave. It smelled delicious, and his stomach protested loudly.

Jill opened the cabinet, obviously familiar with the set up, but paused. “The plates?”

“Oh, they’re in here now.” He gestured to the box on the floor, opened it and took out two plates. “That smells great,” he said. He pulled out a chair at the bar and sat down. “When do you find time to cook with all those kids under foot all day?”

“I don’t. I have to do it when they’re not there. I got tired of quickie, pre-packaged meals every night, so on the weekends, I cook then freeze my meals for the week.” The microwave dinged.

He watched her fix their plates and take two glasses out of a cabinet. “Wine?” she asked.

“Water will work.”

“Okay, go sit at the dining room table, and I’ll bring it out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cole wasn’t used to being told what to do or where to sit, but he did as she asked. He figured she was still in teacher mode after a full day of running a daycare.

More likely, she was still in nurturing mode, and he had to admit, it felt good to be nurtured again.

She brought out the plates and cups and slid one in front of him.

“You look pretty experienced at this.”

“I serve up seven plates at least twice a day. Sometimes three, if a kid’s mommy or daddy is late.” She set her plate down and placed the glasses in front of each.

Cole took a bite and closed his eyes. It was the perfect blend of flavors. “Amazing,” he said, knowing he wasn’t just talking about the food.

They made small talk while they ate, telling each other about their days. He enjoyed being with her in such a simple, relaxed way.

She was talented. Smart. Capable. Sweet. Wild. And hot as hell. In some ways, it felt like they’d known each other forever. She made him feel at ease, free, and secure. Warm. Safe. Cole had never felt this way about a woman before. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking of her. The memory of her touch and the scent of her skin made him ache. Not just his body either, but his heart. Every time he did see her, the ache became more and more intense until it felt like a fire was raging in the pit of his stomach.

But feelings that intense wouldn’t last. It was probably just because they had unfinished business. Because they’d only had that one perfect night together, and he wanted more of the same. But he didn’t want a relationship. The thought of being tied to one place and one woman terrified him.

He knew without a doubt that his mother had been right—any man would be lucky to have Jill in his life. But it couldn’t be him.

He wanted fewer complications in life, not more.

And yet, here she was. Now. Sharing a meal with him. He’d concentrate on that miraculous fact while he could and enjoy it.

When they were done eating, Cole found some coffee and made them each a cup. That’s when she told him how Stanley had been worried about him. “I guess he could see you through the window. To him, you’re the giant next door, so I guess the thought of you being sad...”

“That’s sweet of him to care, but I’m fine,” Cole said.

“I care, too, you know.”

Startled, he looked up. Then reached out and took her hand. “Thank you, Jill. That means a lot to me.” And it did. Right now, it meant everything and despite all his mental reminders that he couldn’t have anything long-term with Jill, the thought that she was soon going to walk out the door again had him almost panicking. “You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”

She hesitated. Finally, she let out a soft rush of breath. “No, I don’t have to leave. In fact, I’d like to help you with some of this packing.”

“You don’t have to help with that.”

“I want to. Stella was important to me. And I—I like you, Cole. I want to help. Please?” She gave him a great set of puppy dog eyes. “Just let me?”

He appreciated that she wanted to help him even after putting in a full day of work. And he didn’t ask for help often. But accepting Jill’s help meant one very important thing—he’d get more time with her.

“Follow me,” he said. He led her down the hall to third bedroom, which his mom had used as an office.

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