Page 34 of The Wrong Promise

“Jobe.”

“Are you cooking dinner?”

“Would you like me to cook you dinner? I should haveasked but when I didn’t hear from you, I was unsure whether you were here or returned to LA.”

His eyes narrow at me. “I wouldn’t leave and not tell you.”

Oh.

“I had a good day, so I finished up early,” he says with his poker face, and it’s hard to tell if he’s happy about it or not. There is always someone who needs him, so maybe it’s a good thing.

“I also had a good day.” I smile as I lift the frying pan from the drawer.

“Anything specific?”

I still for a moment. I don’t want to share and jinx myself. “Nothing notable. The day went smoothly, and I had lunch with my coworkers. It was fun.”

Jobe is watching me intently. So I shoot him another smile because his stern face is not going to ruin my day. Thankfully, his cell vibrates on the counter. “Sorry, I need to take this.”

A wave a hand at him. “Go ahead.”

I start chopping vegetables, then find the condiments and dried herbs.

I mouth,Do you want me to cook you any meat?

He shakes his head and whispers, “No, thank you.”

Is he staying or going out for dinner? He’s still in his trousers and his shirt with the top buttons undone. No tie. The definition of his pectoral muscles is peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt, reminding me he has one hell of a muscled torso. I suck in a quick breath as a memory of that night together hits me. A memory of me running my fingers along his sternum, lower and lower.Oh.I’ve remembered snippets of conversation and banter. And how good I feltafter. I’m feeling good now.

Jobe is suddenly beside me, reaching to the shelf for apacket of rice. He’s close enough for me to inhale his sexy cologne. I’m feeling really good. Damn the timing of my hormones. I’m staring at those hands, imagining how he could pleasure me, then I notice…

Microwave rice.

“You eat that?”

He grins. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Noo,” I exclaim. “I cook it like a pro.”

He adds the herbs to the vegetables, and I step to the side, giving him some room. Who knew I would enjoy watching Jobe Hendricks cook? “I never took you for a two-minute rice man.”

“I think you need to stop assuming you know me.”

“Touché.”

“I hoped tonight we could talk some more.” His beautiful dark eyes hold mine captive. It’s a moment where Jobe Hendricks looks raw and emotional. Not the arrogant guy he’s known to be.

“About what?”

His eyes flick over my face as though I should know. “Us.”

10

JOBE

Zara placesour plates on the dining table.

“What about us?” she asks in a quieter tone, and I sense her nervousness on the subject. She takes the seat opposite me and won’t look at me.

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