Page 65 of Conquering Oz

He moved closer and grasped the edge of the counter, caging her in. “Yes.”

She popped up on her toes. It didn’t give her enough height for eye level, but if he lowered his head, it’d be a great position for a kiss. Much like the game, he wasn’t giving her an inch.

“Oz,” she whispered. “Let me win this one.”

His gaze heated, and he stepped back, waiting for her to walk ahead of him.

She may not have been winning but…at least I’m on the board.

****

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in her apartment, but he hadn’t seen much more than her bedroom last time. As Elodie worked in her small kitchen area, it gave him an opportunity to survey her apartment. It was an open floor plan with nothing separating the living room, kitchen, and small dining area. The entire square footage of the area was probably equal to his bedroom. He circled around the couch, eyeing the furniture. Like her bedroom, the pieces were mismatched but put together in a way they complimented each other. She definitely had a keen sense of style. Eclectic yet tasteful.Rogue should take notes.

Oz stopped near the windows. She had a great view of the main street. Her store was centered in the shopping district. As he’d mentioned before, it was prime real estate, and her store should’ve been soaring. He still hadn’t gotten to the root of her financial downfall, but he would. And for his part, Oz was going to personally look into Julian and the lawsuit.

He turned toward the kitchen, but the corner wall in the living room caught his attention. There were cardboard boxes and totes stacked five feet high. They were labelled, but without getting a closer look he was unable to read them. As he moved to the breakfast bar, he saw scribbling in green marker on one of the boxes.Mom’s photo albums.Through his intel from Nash, he’d known of her mother’s passing. Oddly, Elodie hadn’t mentioned it.

He passed the counter littered with paperwork. Mostly bills with a few stampedPAST DUE.

“It’s ready,” she said with her back to him,

Oz took a seat at the table. Elodie walked over with two plates, placing one in front of him. It was the least formal dinnerhe’d had in years. Surprisingly, he liked it. She sat across from him, handing him utensils. This would be interesting. Usually when he looked at his food, he knew what he was eating. His best guess here would be a stew of some kind.

“It’s a new recipe. It got great reviews.”

Oz grabbed his fork, took a bite, and stilled. Even after tasting it, he wasn’t quite sure what he was eating. The meat was chewy, and the texture grainy.

Elodie twisted her lips and hummed. “Something is definitely missing.”

Flavor.

“It’s not bad though,” she said.

Oz eyed her plate.Are we eating the same goddamn meal?How anyone could eat this dish and be so oblivious to the taste was beyond his comprehension. She’d obviously missed some ingredients while adding extra of others to compensate. He was even questioning if the chicken was entirely cooked.Is it even fucking chicken?Oz grabbed his napkin, wiping his mouth while simultaneously trying to swallow.

He glanced over at Elodie, who was staring at him. She smiled, though it seemed strained. He was obviously not doing a good job at masking his distaste. Elodie stood, rounded the table, and reached for his plate. “I’ll order takeout or something.”

Oz clasped his hand around her wrist, and her gaze jerked to him.

“Did I say I didn’t want it?”

Her throat bobbed. “You don’t have to eat it, Oz.”

No, he didn’t, and had it been anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have. But there was something in the way she watched him take the first bite as if pleasing him was important. It had the alpha in him roaring and ready to unleash. Elodie may havebeen the boss in most aspects of her life, but she submitted beautifully and eagerly for him.

He narrowed his gaze. “Let go of the plate.”

She released it and smirked. They finished the meal, and Oz was sure he’d be regretting it later. But Elodie seemed quite proud of herself when she took his plate. As she cleaned up he paced around her living room, checking his messages. They’d gotten a lead on Karl, and Nash was expecting to have him by later this evening. If that was the case, his night would end early.

He sat on the couch responding to Nash and ordering him to keep him posted.

“Do you want another glass?”

He glanced up, watching her approach the couch with a bottle of Scotch. Oz was still nursing his first drink. He shook his head.

“It’s shit isn’t?”

“Yes.”

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