Page 6 of Control Freak
“That would make sense.” I turn toward him, meeting his dark green eyes. My panties nearly melt on the spot. What is it about unavailable men that sets me on fire? “I mean, if you’re having books delivered, why not groceries?” I try not to giggle by clearing my throat. “Why not everything?”
“What do you need to get started?” He moves toward the cabinets, not answering my not-so-subtle question wrapped in a statement designed to lead the witness. He pulls out perfectly nestled pans, and that’s just the start of it. Once I decide on a menu, he begins lining the counters with perfectly nestledeverything.His glassware, the measuring cups, the plates…you name it. It’s all like a high-end home store showroom.
“If you need anything else, just ask.”
This time, I laugh for real. After what happened with the photo of him and the other guy in their firefighting gear, I wouldn’t dream of touching something else. But something tells me that it wasn’t just the fact that I was forward in my exploring. Something tells me there’s more to that photo than just a memory on a wall.
I raise my hand in salute. “Aye, aye.” Then nod. To my surprise, Beck almost smiles. His lips curl up just enough to show the hint of a dimple in one cheek. I gasp in surprise.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I get to work, prepping the pork chops and running green beans under water in the strainer. It’s always weird to cook in a foreign kitchen, especially when the owner’s standing around watching your every move. I turn off the water and dry my hands on the towel over my shoulder. Again, Beck is standing so close that I could stand on my tiptoes and kiss him if I wanted.
But I don’t. I really don’t. Why would I kiss a man like this? Someone with a short fuse and what appears to be a clinical case of OCD.
Because he’s your type, honey. Admit it.
I shake the intrusive voice. “Why don’t you help me. It’ll be more fun and much faster with two sets of hands.” I imagine what his gigantic paw-like hands would feel like wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him before spinning me around, bending me over, and fucking me from behind.
Bad intrusive thoughts!Bad! Bad! Bad!
“Okay.” He shrugs his massive shoulders, and I shake off the image.
“What should I?—”
“Peel the potatoes.” My voice comes out as a screech. “For mash. Um…for mashed. We’re going to mash potatoes.”
I need. To get. A grip.
Beck nods and gets to work. My lungs release every ounce of air they’ve held onto. This is not the kind of man I want to be thinking about naked. He’s everything that’s hurt me in the past: unnecessarily gruff, overly particular, and potentially mean.
Chapter Six
Beck
After dinner, Isla and I clear our plates from the dining room table. I’m trying to shake it, but her presence is sinking into my bones. It’s been ages, but the familiarity of having someone to share space with feels nice. Not nearly as invasive as I thought.
My eyes stick to her gorgeous, round ass as I follow her into the kitchen. She’s so soft and sexy. I think I spent most of dinner staring at her while she talked.
She’s probably terrified of me. I don’t blame her. I’m not reliable.
“I take it you don’t have much company?” She turns around in time to catch me staring. I try to avert my eyes quickly enough, but it’s no use. I’m busted.
“Why do you say that?”
She gently sets the plates in the sink. “None of this stuff looks used a day in its life.”
“I use it.” Our arms brush as I set the serving bowl into the sink. A jolt of electricity darts up my arm.
“Yeah.” She rolls her brown eyes, shifting her weight to one hip. “You do, but the rest of this stuff looks brand spanking new.”
“I guess it kind of is.” I mutter.
“Hm?”
“It is. I haven’t had company before.” I can’t believe the words leave my mouth. Dinner consisted mainly of present moment small talk. How good the food is—Isla wasn’t lying, she’s a fantastic cook—what books we’ve read lately, and updates from the weather app. This is the first bit of personal info I’ve shared. Heat rises to my cheeks at the thought.
