Page 116 of Things We Left Behind
I swirled warm pretzel through the caramel puddle on the plate. “For one of those skeezy debt collection places. You know the kind. They buy medical or mortgage debt for pennies on the dollar and then try to collect on it by harassing people. I think it was called Morganstern Credit Corporation.”
Lucian said nothing as he took another bite. He was eating standing up, leaning against the sink, the counter between us.
“What? No ‘You’re so undesirable men fake their own deaths to get away from you’ jokes?” I asked.
“Too many punch lines. I froze,” he said. “Why are you subjecting yourself to this?”
“To spending time with you?” I asked, coyly batting my eyelashes.
“I know you’re only here for the baked goods.”
I savored my last bite and refrained from licking the drizzle of gooey goodness from the plate. “I want a family. It’s time.”
I got up and rounded the peninsula. Silently, Lucian slid to the side, allowing me access to the sink. I washed the plate and fork, then left them to dry.
“You’re serious about all this, aren’t you?”
He sounded baffled, and I glanced up at him. There wasn’t enough space between us, which created an odd, barefoot intimacy.
“I’d think you of all people would understand. Haven’t you ever made up your mind about something you wanted and then gone out and got it? Or in your case, coughed up a few million and bought yourself whatever it was you wanted.”
He nudged me out of the way, my body heating at the innocuous contact. I put a little distance between us and hopped up on the counter while he washed his dishes, then used the towel looped over the oven handle to dry both our plates before returning them to their respective homes.
Meticulous, I noted. The man couldn’t tolerate things out of place. He probably folded his socks before sex.
“That’s very pragmatic of you,” he said.
I bristled from my perch. “I can be pragmatic.”
He glanced my way, and I felt the heat from those molten silver eyes.
“In many areas, yes,” he conceded. “But given your usual reading material, I would have expected you to prioritize romance.”
“What nonsense are you spouting now?” I demanded.
“You’ve been reading romance novels by the truckload since you were a teenager. You practically have ‘happily ever after’ tattooed on your forehead.”
I crossed my arms. Did I wish I could meet someone who would sweep me off my feet like Naomi and Lina had? Yes. Was I more than a little jealous of their over-the-top sex lives and grand romances? Absolutely.
“Sometimes you have to stop waiting for something to happen and start making it happen,” I said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped back.
His grin was devastating and fleeting.
I examined my fingernails and feigned boredom. “Just out of curiosity, what don’t you believe?”
“You’re not going to settle for a man just because he ticks off the ‘potential father material’ box. That’s not how you’re wired.”
“Oh, and how exactly am I wired?”
He moved quickly, like a beast lunging for its prey. I found him standing between my knees, caging me in with his hands on the counter. “You’re wired to want a man who’s going tolive up to every one of those heroes you read about. The ones who fight for their woman, who drag her off into dark corners because they can’t stand not touching her a moment longer. The ones who would do anything for her. That’s what you want.”
His voice was a rough rasp, an invisible caress.
Why did it feel so good, so thrilling to be this close to him?
