“Interesting,” he murmured.
“You don’t cook?”
“No. I rely on the kindness of others.”
A snort escaped. “Bet you have plenty of women lined up to cook for you.”
His gaze dove deep. “Cooking a meal is intimate. I’ve never met someone I trusted on that level.”
Her fingers clenched around the fork. She tried to keep her voice casual. “Maybe it’s because you never wanted that type of relationship in the first place.”
“You’re right.” He dropped his voice. “Maybe I’m ready now.”
Heat washed through her. Aspen was still playfully arguing with Brick so it was like they were having this conversation in private. She told herself to remain silent and let the moment pass, but found the words popping out of her mouth. “I cooked for someone once on a daily basis. Trust me, it can turn into a mindless chore that’s unappreciated, and amplify the void. Not every meal is a bridge to intimacy.”
Her cheeks flushed. Why did she end up uttering her innermost thoughts to this man? Why did even casual topics of conversation turn into something so much more?
His finger tapped against the table. “With your ex-husband?”
Sierra stiffened. She expected to feel defensive but it was simply a fact. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Sierra. I don’t think eating a meal you cooked for me, with my pleasure in mind, could ever turn routine.”
A shudder wracked her body and tingles rushed down her spine. Damn him for doing this to her. Damn him for making her…want.
Thankfully, Aspen interrupted the crackling tension between them. “How’s the store doing? Is the new line of jewelry selling well?”
For the last year, Sierra had begun working with local female designers to bring products into the store and give back to the community. She loved the satisfaction of working with other entrepreneurs and found she had a knack for sensing what would sell well. She smiled and settled into her happy place. Business. “Yes, the Jasmine jewelry line ended up being so popular, I put in multiple orders. I think customers appreciated a percentage being donated back to the women’s shelters.”
“How do you decide what to sell?” Kane asked curiously.
Sierra drained her martini and glanced over. “Hard data like cost versus profit margins. What’s sold in the past and what hasn’t. Keeping an eye on trends.”
“What else?”
Sierra shifted in her chair. “I research new local designers to see when we can collaborate. The networking grows both of our businesses and keeps customers from getting bored. Tourists may be new, but I also cater to the locals.”
She began to turn back to her plate, ready to finish their dialogue, but the word shot from his lips in a husky demand. “And?”
Her breath stalled. Chemistry bubbled under the surface with every word they exchanged. God, it was so much easier to avoid him. Being this close was torture. She sensed Aspen and Brick’s interested stares and tried to keep her tone jokey. “I think that was enough to dazzle you with my business skills.”
His smile was pleasant on the surface, but Sierra caught the sharklike flash of white teeth. “Yes, all those traits are needed to be successful. But I found there’s something else that’s even more important. Beyond the stats and goodwill. And I bet that’s the real key of why Flirt has flourished.”
Hearing the name of her store on his lips made her tremble. Sierra knew exactly what he wanted her to say. What he was practically daring her to utter out loud. The word that would drag them both back to the past; to the dark; to what they shared.
She pressed her lips together, refusing.
“Sierra?”
Her name cut through the air and bathed her ears in a velvet bath of sound. She wouldn’t say it. She absolutely refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this exchange affected her.
Aspen cut in, having no idea of the undercurrents between them. “Risk. She has the balls to take risks. I think that’s what he means, right?”
Kane didn’t answer. His gaze probed, pierced, shredded. The silence stretched as Aspen’s question hung between them, unanswered.
For the second time tonight, the word shot out of her, refusing to be caged any longer. “Instinct.”
The same word she’d uttered when he asked her why she stayed. The same word she’d uttered right before he kissed her and claimed her every way a woman craved to be claimed.