“I see them all the time. All good.”
“I like them.”
“They’re the best.” He put his glass in the dishwasher and rested his hands on his hips. Not helpful. The pose was downright...damn,that man was appealing. “Hungry? I think there’s some leftover pizza.”
“Patricia and Bill ordered pizza?”
He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a lidded Pyrex. “Oh no. But the chef makes exceptional pizza.”
Claire unlocked her frozen toes and moved close enough to check out the cold pizza, but maintained a maximum amount of distance between them so she didn’t inadvertently jump him. Whole wheat thin crust, a variety of cheeses, tomato, jalapeno, green chiles. “Looks amazing. Hot or cold?” She grinned, baiting him to give the right answer.
“Trust me?” he asked, raising a devious eyebrow.
“Maybe.”
He grabbed a plate and loaded it up with a pair of slices and hit the thirty-second button on the microwave, turned the oven to broil, then transferred the nuked pizza to crispen.
“Fancy.”
“Every experienced bachelor knows how to reheat pizza. Since flying this coop, I usually live alone. When I don’t have friends thinking my spare bedroom is an invitation for a roommate.”
And she was reminded of exactly why she hadn’t broken things off with Ryder yet. Anexperienced bachelor, even by his own admission.
“Lucky. I’ve never lived alone.”
“Really?”
“I could never afford my own place.”
“And that’s why you and Ryder moved in together so quickly.”
“Precisely.”
Grady skillfully slid the slices out of the oven, onto the plate, and set them up at the island.
Stomach rumbling at the savory scent, Claire hopped on the stool next to him and sank her teeth into the crispy-melty goodness. As she filled her hollow belly, her leg relaxed against Grady’s. The heat was toastier than the fresh-broiled cheese, but she needed it. Craved the connection. Thrived on the geomagnetic activity stirring between them, resonating deep to the mitochondrial level.
Dammit. She stiffened and pulled her leg away. She was not about to be the player Ryder had accused Grady of being. Six-letter fancy term for slut.W-A-N-T-O-N.
As he swallowed another bite, Grady wiped the corner of his mouth on a napkin and asked, “You didn’t do much better at the stupidI Nevergame than I did.” They’d kept things pretty PG, but she suspected there was nothing PG about Grady’s sex life.
“I suppose I’m not very adventurous.”
“I know that’s not true.”
“Really. I’m ridiculously ordinary. I don’t break rules, I don’t try dangerous things.”
“You went ice skating alone, without ever having even seen ice, just for fun.”
“That was different.”
“Yeah? The next day, you rode trail into thick fog with a strange man that hasn’t been subtle at the fact that he is attracted to you, even knowing that you’re spoken for.”
She pulled her lip into her teeth, not having a clue what to say. Wasn’t he seeing someone? If not, would he think less of her if she sprinted up the stairs, woke up Ryder to dump him, then ran back downstairs and tore all her clothes off?
Appetite rapidly diminishing, she set down her pizza and adjusted her posture. “How was your dinner? Ryder said you’ve known Trace for a long time?”
His eyes brushed over her, his demeanor darkening, and he set down his pizza crust and slid the plate away. “For as long as I can remember.”
