Page 49 of His Greatest Treasure

His eyes spark at the nickname, but he leaves it be. “Have you eaten?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. Dinner. Have you eaten dinner?” he asks, frustration leaking from the words.

“No. I was going to have a liquid dinner of red wine and then order something for dessert.”

He inhales and exhales twice before speaking again. “I accidentally made too much food for just me. Do you want—are you hungry?”

“What did you make?”

I’m already going to say yes, regardless of what he made. I don’t know why or how, but one simple offer from him and a blast of warmth sends my loneliness abandoning ship, disappearing.

“I grilled a couple steaks. There’s a salad too . . .”

“How do you accidentally cook two steaks instead of one?”

He shifts on his feet, lips twitching. “It fell onto the grill, and I couldn’t waste it.”

“Right,” I muse, fighting back a smile of my own. “Do you like wine?”

“It’s not my drink of choice, but I don’t hate it.”

“I’ll bring the bottle I was going to drink on my own, then. Give me a sec,” I say before leaving him in the doorway to grab the bottle.

“Do you want to change first?” He raises his voice so it reaches me, and I shiver at the power in it.

I grip the bottle hard and head back toward the door. “No. I like what I’m wearing now. It’s comfortable.”

And I know you like it.

He coughs, and I reach him just in time to watch as he adjusts the front of his jeans and grips the bulge . . .

My temperature spikes, eyes glued onto the stiff movements of his hand before he releases himself and shifts.

“Ready to go?” he asks tightly.

I bounce my eyes back up to his and tip my chin, snagging mykeys from the hook on the wall. “Lead the way. I’ve just got to lock up.”

He swipes my keys and ushers me around his body with a hot hand burning the skin of my lower back. “I’ve got it.”

“I’m capable of locking my own door.”

“I know. You’re capable of anything.”

My tongue swells in my mouth. I don’t know how I’m able to form a coherent sentence, but I manage somehow.

“You’re being nice tonight. Why?”

He tucks my keys into the pocket of his jeans, and I make a mental note to take them back before the end of the night.

Walking across our front lawns side by side instead of across from one another after a prank showdown is a completely different experience. I haven’t been inside of Oliver’s house before, and my palms are sweating now that it’s happening.

“I can be nice, Avery,” he grunts.

“Are you going to prank me the moment I step in your front door? Is that it?”

“Keep pushing me and maybe I will.”

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