Page 31 of The Next Door Billionaire's Deception

Another part of me wants to take him on his offer.

“Are you currently watching any series? That’s a start.”

His smile evolves into a grin. “Great. Let’s binge-watch a series.”

The counter ticks. Instead of walking to the oven to remove the pie, he walks over to me, stopping just inches from me.

He leans in, and I lean back until I’m against the cabinet. He looms further, but I can’t move back. A wave of heat clouds my brain, and I close my eyes.

He gives a soft chuckle. “You’re standing behind the cabinet. We need plates, Melissa.”

“Oh.”

I step aside, and he gets two plates from the cabinet.

What just happened?

The pie looks nice. He cuts a small portion and tastes it. A smile brightens up his face.

“Holy heck, thisactuallytastes good! We did it! We make a good team.”

We?

That single remark sends tingles through my veins.

“I guess we do.”

“We should do this more often.”Sure, when I’m not trying to find out why you’re snooping around.

I take a piece of the pie, lifting my chin and nodding in approval, eyes bright. Richard must have noticed because he begins to laugh.

“See? Told you. Hey, let’s take this eat-fest to the living room.”

He divides the pie, serving portions into plates.

“Why don’t you grab a fruit juice pack from the fridge? We could use some of it with this pie,” he says, pointing to a refrigerator in a corner.

I grab the juice pack, then go over to the cabinet to get two glasses. Richard reaches for the cabinet as well to fetch something, and our hands stroke each other. The contact sends my pulse racing, my awareness of him already on the brink.

We maintain eye contact, blinking at intervals. His gaze is on my mouth. Is he thinking of kissing me?

“We –we should get back t–to breakfast,” I say, taking a large, deep breath to calm my throbbing heart.

He doesn’t remove his gaze. “We should, shouldn’t we?”

His face leans closer to mine, but stops. He grabs two spoons, and turns away, not looking back. I put a hand to my chest, as the rapid and loud drumming subsides.

“I’ll get the pie to the living room. You can bring along the fruit juice,” he says, his back still turned to me.

He leaves, the two pie servings in his hands. I pause a moment to gather my thoughts before following suit.

A movie is already playing when I get to the living room. It’s not what I expect.

“Monty Python? I love this movie!”

He flashes a wide grin. “Thought I’d surprise you there.”

I settle down on the wide couch with him and take my plate of steamy Cracker pie. Richard has a good sense of humor, laughing at every joke in the movie, even those I miss. I find myself asking him at regular intervals what some particular joke meant.

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