Page 27 of So Wrong It's Right

“Why the dressing first?”

“It keeps the lettuce from getting soggy if it’s at the bottom because we layer in the harder vegetables as a barrier.” She starts spooning corn into the jars that have dressing. “We are doing a southwest chicken salad this week. I cooked the meat yesterday.” When I’m done with the dressing, she hands me a bowl of peppers and I go in behind the corn. Soon enough, we have a counter full of jarred salad and I’m oddly moved that they are efficient and also...kind of pretty.

Out of nowhere, she says, “Maybe we should break up today.”

Damn it. Damn her. I can’t find a place to step that isn’t treacherous around this woman. I’m up. I’m down. I’m content. I’m irrationally irate. “Why?” I sputter.

See? Irrationally angry. I need to practice my calm breathing.

“We are getting along fine, Stella.” I breathe through my nose, hold for four, and let it out. “Why break up now?”

She loads the dishes into the dishwasher, and I move the jars to the fridge while I wait for her answer.

“I just think it would be easier. And then you don’t have to go to the wedding. And you don’t have to deal with me. Except at work.”

“Are you trying to get out of your end of the bargain?”

Pressing her lips together, she hands me a kitchen towel. It has gold stars on it, of course. “I don’t think we can fool everyone.”

“We fooled them today.”

“Look, Christopher. You’re a nice guy. And today was fun, but it’s not fair to drag you along into my stupid lie.” She hangs the towel back up. “We don’t have enough in common to pull it off for very long. There’s no way you would put up with someone like me unless we were madly crazy about each other. People are going to notice we don’t have that kind of spark.”

I raise my eyebrows at that. Has she forgotten the kiss in the bar last night? “You are kidding me, right?”

“Look, everyone who knows me knows that this is the Year of Stella.”

“Right. No dating. But you already broke your resolution. They already know you’re dating me.”

“But they also know that it would have to be special. That I’d have to be swept off my feet. I don’t think we can pull that off.”

I’m a quiet man. I’m a patient man. But I am a man, and I’m pretty sure she just took a shot at my ego. “You don’t think we can pull that off,” I repeat quietly, calmly, taking off my glasses. I bracket my arms around her, trapping her between me and the counter. “You’re worried that I can’t sweep you off your feet.”

Those big blue eyes widen at me. “You’re too well-mannered. Too controlled. No one will believe—”

I interrupt her by kissing her neck.

“What are you doing?”

I lick a path to her ear and draw her lobe into my mouth.

“Christopher?”

“Hmm?”

Her breath catches. “I asked you what you were doing?”

I sink both my hands into her hair, holding the back of her head and move my kisses to her mouth, drawing that candied bottom lip into mine. She groans and returns my kiss, and I slide gently into the most glorious high. I want more. Now. I can’t stop myself.

“Christopher!”

I pull back. “Tell me again. Tell me how well-mannered and controlled I am.”

Something is pushing at the door to my sanity. I think it’s a battering ram. The hinges are rattling and one more good shove and I’m out of my skull. And it’s not even Stella doing it. The crazy is coming from inside the house. I’m throwing off my own chains. I can’t stop. And I don’t want to.

Stella’s breath is shallow, her eyes a little wild. I’m still holding her head. My body is pressed against all her luscious curves, and the battering ram inside me is pulled back for one last blow.

And she knows it. She studies me. I see the moment she decides to push. “There’s nothing wrong with being in control. Having manners.” She licks her lips, and I feel it on my cock. “It’s just that you wouldn’t know what to do with someone like me. You can’t handle me.”

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