Page 30 of Stripped

Her grin widened. “What a sweetheart. Zane, isn't she a sweetheart?”

“She sure is,” Zane said, smiling. “She's also starving.”

Iris took a step back. “Of course, she is. Zane told us you're a vegetarian. I don't know any vegetarian recipes, but my Zeke loves to cook and he's excited about the opportunity to learn something new.”

“Don't put words in my mouth, woman.” A big burly man, who was literally twice Iris' size, walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. “I'm not going to give up cooking meat without a little bit of grumbling.”

To say I was overwhelmed would be putting it mildly. “Really, you don't have to—”

“They will anyway,” Zane said. He set a plate with scrambled eggs, toast, and grits on the table. “Eat up while you can. These two will talk all day if you let them.”

“Zane,” Iris slapped a hand to her chest in mock outrage. “That is no way to talk about your parents.” She looked at me. “But he's right, of course. Sit and eat. We don't want to keep you.”

I sat and took a bite. “Wow,” I said, when I'd finished chewing. “This is delicious.”

“Our Zane is a wonderful cook,” Iris said. “Not quite as good as his father, but a close second. He's been cooking since he could reach the stove.”

I nodded and chewed. Zane sat across from me with his own plate, but didn't offer food to his parents. “Why don't you guys come over for dinner tonight?” Zane asked. “We're going to be pretty busy today.”

“Of course, dear,” Iris said. She sat at the table next to me. Zane's dad sat next to him. “We won't keep you, but you don't mind if we sit with you while you eat?”

Zane met my gaze and rolled his eyes, but his smile was tolerant. He either had a ton of patience with his parents or he really, truly liked them. “What are you two doing today?”

“We're going to visit Lou Ann and see the new baby, bring her a meal.” Iris gave me a pointed look. “I adore babies. I would have loved to have a whole house full of them, but it wasn't meant to be. I'm counting on Zane to make up for it by giving me a wagon-full of grandbabies. I was just telling him—”

“Okay, Mom,” Zane said, finally looked a bit tweaked. “Don't scare Abby away before she's taken her shoes off. She and I are just friends. There will be no babies here any time soon.”

I smiled gratefully at Zane. My plans for my future didn't include a house full of babies. They included a corner office in Denver and a passport full of stamps.

He winked at me.

“Oh, well,” Iris said. “I wasn't suggesting you and Abigail have babies, I was just talking. You aren't getting any younger, Zane, and—”

Zeke pushed his chair back and stood, catching his wife's eye and silently communicating something that made her stop pushing. She stood. “We'll just see you two kids for dinner tonight. Have a wonderful day.” They hurried out as quickly as they'd appeared.

“Are they telepathic?” I asked as I carried my dish to the sink.

Zane laughed. “No, they've just been together since they were kids. They know what the other one's thinking from forty plus years of experience.”

He put his plate in the sink and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the dirty pans on the stove top. “Leave those for later,” he said. “I know you want to see your employees.”

I didn't need any persuading. He lent me a coat, which fell to my knees and covered my hands, and a hat, and we walked out into the cold together.

He threw an arm around my shoulders, but I shrugged it off. He stopped walking and faced me. “Did my mom actually scare you off?”

He was smiling, but I could see the concern in his eyes. “Of course not,” I said, only partly lying. “It's more that we don't want the same things. As soon as I get everything straightened out with my employees and sell my building, I'm moving to Denver. I'm starting my life.”

His smile didn't slip, but his expression darkened, his eyes clouded. “I like you, Abby. Can't we just have fun and not worry about where it's going or not going?”

“It's not going anywhere. It can't. I think it's best if we remember that and avoid any more public displays of affection.”

He stepped close, not touching me, but close enough that his face was all I could see, his scent, of pine needles and dry earth, all I could smell. “How do you feel about private displays of affection?”

I felt that I wanted him to grip my hips in those strong hands of his and pull me close, but I wanted to keep things simple. I wanted him, god I wanted him, but I was in no place to get mired down in a relationship, no matter how casual he claimed it would be. “It's better if we keep things platonic. It'll help us remember this can't go anywhere.”

He took a step back, his smile fading. He ran his gaze over me and there was such hunger, such unrestrained longing, in his expression that my core throbbed with echoing want. “Okay, I can do platonic, as long as you're sure that's what you want.” The way he said it, he sounded certain I'd give in. His words sounded very much like a challenge and I never backed down from a challenge. Never.

“I'm positive.”

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