Page 17 of Hothead

Who was he kidding, he knew exactly why. He still wanted her. Worse than before. As if that were even possible. And seeing that douchebag Calvin practically drool all over her had obviously short-circuited Luke’s brain. Made him make questionable choices.

Now here he was in his kitchen, flipping steaks and pretending like this wasn’t a big fucking deal. Well, it was. Not once in thirty-five years had he made dinner for a woman. He hadn’t even taken one out to a restaurant. Luke Cappelli did not date.

If he wanted a woman, he picked her up in a bar, normally out of town, went back to her place, and then disappeared before sunlight. That might make him a dick, but that was who he was. No strings. No commitment. No fuss.

Nothing like what was going on now. Actually, he had no idea what the hell was going on. But one thing was for sure, it reeked of complication.

Being all new to this, he was struggling with how to handle the unfamiliar feelings bubbling to the surface. Never before had he simply wanted to just be with a woman. No ulterior motives. No plans to get her naked. Just being in her company because he enjoyed it. Craved it.

The more time he spent with her, the stronger the pull between them became. There was no one thing that made him feel this way. It was all of it. The way their personalities seemed to click, her dark sense of humor, and the sharp sarcasm she effortlessly threw out. He wanted more of everything. He wanted more of her.

You’re so fucked.

He was. That was made obvious when Bella strolled up to the marble counter beside him and jumped up onto the surface, swinging her legs until she was intermittently kicking his thigh. But it wasn’t his legs he was worried about. It was the ache in his chest that had formed at just the sight of her.

“So, what’s up with the fancy ass pad, Cappelli?”

“Excuse me?” He stole another glance just as she was flicking her wild waves over one shoulder.

“This place. It’s a little big for a bachelor, don’t you think? And don’t even get me started on the designer décor. I’m scared to touch anything in case I break something I can’t afford.”

He rolled his eyes at that as he opened the cupboard to pull out some plates. “And yet here you are, sitting on my kitchen counter without a care in the world.”

“True. Guess I better run the numbers. What did this marble set you back?” she asked as her hand teasingly skimmed over the surface.

Plating up the food, he felt his head shake and a smile break. How was she doing this? He didn’t even smile this often around his friends.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that—it’s time to eat, angel.”

When he looked back, she was smiling too. A smile so bright it lit up her whole face.

Goddamn, she’s beautiful.

He needed to focus. Food. Right. They were going to eat. Taking the plates to the table he’d set up on the patio, he used the walk over as an opportunity to try and sort himself out. He heard Bella jump down and follow behind, but he didn’t dare look back as he passed through the sliding doors.

“Very nice,” Bella declared as she pulled out a chair.

That was another thing. He’d purposely spent time trying to make the table look nice for her. He’d even put a candle out. A freaking candle?!

Who even am I?

“Why do you look pissed off?”

Perfect. He wasn’t even shutting down his facial expressions around her anymore.

“I’m not pissed off.” Okay, even he could admit that didn’t sound all too convincing.

When he chanced a glance at her, she was shaking her head. He even heard a tut, before she said, “You need to get out of your head, Cappelli, and spend some time in the real world with the rest of us.”

And just like that, he’d lost his appetite. Around her, he’d become the one thing he strived every day not to be. Transparent. She saw everything. And he didn’t like it.

When he didn’t reply, she didn’t seem too concerned. She continued on as if she’d not just exposed him.

“So ... you said you had some more questions, about Marco?” A loaded fork was daintily pushed through those plump red lips as she eyed him expectantly.

Questions. Right. He had those.

Maybe think of them instead of staring at her lips?

---