Page 19 of Under His Touch

“Everything okay?” Alec asks, coming into the room dressed in nothing but track pants. My gaze falls, takes in his bare chest, the oblique muscles that are guiding my eyes down.

“Yes, it was my friend. I forgot that we had yoga this morning.”

He points upward. “I’m doing laps in a few. You can join me if you want to get in some exercise.” I look up at his ceiling and he explains. “Rooftop pool.”

“It’s a bit chilly for that, isn’t it?”

“The pool is heated and glassed in. Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” I say, and follow him into the kitchen. I glance around the massive space and take in the state-of-the-art appliances as he goes to his coffeemaker, but it’s not just any coffeemaker. With all the spouts, buttons and gadgets, it’s the fancy kind you’d find at a high-end coffee boutique.

“Mocha latte?” he asks.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I never kid about my coffee,” he says, and I laugh. Even when we were teens he loved his coffee. He glances at me over his shoulder. “I need to get my laps in this morning. I have some paperwork that needs my attention this afternoon. To speed things up, would you mind asking questions while I exercise?”

“Uh, I guess not.”

He pours milk into a metal cup, sticks it under a spout and steams it. “You’re welcome to swim if you want.”

“I don’t have a suit.”

The muscles on his back ripple, the same way they did when I ran my fingers over his body. He finishes making my coffee and hands it to me. I take a seat at the gigantic island and breathe in the welcoming scent.

“If you’ll excuse me for a minute,” he says. He disappears into the other room and comes back doing something on his tablet. He hits a few buttons, and I assume it must be some work emergency, then he goes back to making his coffee.

“Do you still like Pop-Tarts for breakfast?” he asks.

“No, I kind of gave that up when I became an adult. I usually have yogurt, toast or sometimes just a protein bar.” My stomach takes that moment to grumble. “I seem to be hungrier than usual this morning.”

Way to bring up all the sex we had, Megan.

“It was a late night,” he simply says. “I’m not that well stocked, but I do have bread in the freezer. That will get us by, and after our swim I’ll order us in a proper breakfast. We’ll have it at the pool.”

“You don’t have to do that. Toast will do, and I should head out right after we finish the questionnaire. I have some work to do on a Bar Mitzvah today.”

He makes his coffee, takes a sip and eyes me over the rim. “If you think I’m letting you leave here without properly feeding you—”

“Bossy much,” I say. “Glad they asked that on the form. We wouldn’t want any woman to think you were easy to get along with.”

“It’s settled, then,” he says, not bothering to disagree. He opens the freezer, pulls out the frozen bread and places four slices in the toaster. “I have butter, jam and peanut butter.”

“Strawberry jam?”

“Is there really any other kind worth having?” he asks, and pulls it from the fridge.

“This coffee is so good,” I say, and take a big sip. “I’m going to have to invest in one of those machines. I’ll need an engineering degree to figure out how to use it, though.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s not so hard.” He takes another sip of coffee and goes serious. “How is this all going to work? Once you set up the profile for me, then what?”

“Well, I’m going to pretend to be you online. Vet the women to see if I think they’d be a good match. I’ll set up the date, tell you where to be, at what time and what to wear. I probably should check your wardrobe.”

“You’ll find mostly suits and gym clothes.”

“Then we might need to go shopping.”

“Do you think that’s necessary?”

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