Page 40 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

“I’m much more relaxed now that I understand why you care so much about the Richardson wedding. I’ll stop taking it as a lack of confidence in my abilities.”

He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also using it as an excuse to get closer to you.”

Her hand landed on his hip. “And I’d be lying if I said I had any interest in resisting you.”

“I don’t think this day could get any better.”

“Oh, I can think of a couple ways.”

ChapterSixteen

“Give me a minute, and I’ll do the dishes,” Mary said as Alex lifted her empty dessert plate. “I’m too full to move right this second.”

“I’ll do the dishes,” he said, carrying both their plates into the kitchen. “You’re relaxing, remember?”

“Hmm.” She leaned back in the padded dining room chair as the candles flickered. “Do you even know how to wash dishes?”

He set the plates on the counter and shot her an arch look over his shoulder. “I think I know how to load a dishwasher.”

“Good for you. I could get used to this, you know.” After their walk on the beach, they’d watched the waves until her stomach growled. When they’d returned to the beach house, she’d taken a quick shower, and by the time she finished, the chef had been putting the final touches on a dinner of local sea bass with garlic mashed potatoes. The green salad had at least eight more ingredients than the salads she usually made herself for dinner on weeknights.

“You should get used to it. It’s about time someone took care of you.”

It was a dig against her brothers, but she was too comfortable to argue. She tongued a raspberry seed from between her teeth and recalled the tangy taste of the berry tart they’d had for dessert. It went perfectly with the California chenin blanc. She drained her glass, then stood and carried it into the kitchen.

“You’re not trying to help, are you?” Alex had to know how fantastic his ass looked in his gray sweatpants as he bent to slot the plates into the bottom rack of the dishwasher.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She reached out a hand to touch his taut glutes, then snatched it back. They’d kissed last week, and he’d given her a heartfelt hug on the beach today, but that didn’t mean they were in an ass-touching kind of relationship. “Is there more wine?”

He straightened. “Right here.” He lifted the bottle from the counter and poured the last drops into her glass. “Go sit down. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Okay. I think I’ll figure out how to turn on the fireplace.”

“Are you cold?”

Not with the smolder heating his eyes. “It’s more for the ambiance.”

“Ambiance it up. I’ll be right there.”

As she walked out, he started humming something, and she paused to listen. Was that “Just The Way You Are” by Bruno Mars? She frowned. It could have been an out-of-tune version of Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me a River.”

The fireplace wasn’t difficult to figure out. With a click of the remote control, gas-powered flames leaped in a bed of glass rocks. She nestled into the comfortable corner of the giant sectional. Someone could host quite the party here. It seemed a waste for only the two of them to enjoy the huge house by the beach.

Alex entered with two short glasses of something brown in one hand and two tall glasses of water in the other. She plucked the waters out of his hand and set them on the coffee table, then scrambled to find coasters. He handed her one of the short glasses, then touched his glass to hers. “To you.”

“To a lovely afternoon at the beach,” she said and sipped the drink. Ugh. The pungent aroma burrowed into her sinuses.

“You don’t care for scotch?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m more of a wine girl.”

He took the scotch from her. “Can I get you more wine, then?”

“No, thanks. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep.” And sleep was the last thing from her mind with his gray sweatpants tempting her to find the outline of him, with the scent of vanilla that beckoned to her even under the medicinal smell of scotch, with his dark eyes tunneling into hers like x-rays. He’d made her feel like a queen today. Was it only friendship, or did he want more, too?

“Would that be so terrible?” he asked. “You’re here to rest.”

She set her hand lightly on his knee. It was warm and solid, just like the rest of him. It was time to be bold. “That’s not all I want to do.”

---