The minute Hudson walked into the mansion, Izzy’s entire body went on high alert. This awareness of him, of every twitch he made, every look he sent her way…it wasn’t something she’d ever experienced before.
She continued rolling out dough and exchanging insults with Sinner about who was better at making pizzas.
“Where do you get your dough?” she asked as she pressed it into a deep-dish pan.
“I make it myself.” Sinner sounded insulted that she would ask such a heinous question, as if SEALs were known for their Chicago-style.
She glanced over her shoulder at the door. Hudson didn’t reappear. “Where did you learn how to make dough?”
“Grew up in Chicago. Worked for my uncle’s pizza shop since I could lift a sack of flour.” He scattered ham and sausage over the surface of another pizza. “Who taught you how to make pizza?”
“I worked at a place in Brooklyn all through high school. They’re world-class.”
“Hmph.”
She inwardly smiled at Sinner’s reaction to her. Talking about something as silly as pizza wouldn’t erase what happened to her today—but it was helping it fade to the backdrop.
Now if Hudson would come back out, she would feel even better.
They fired three more pizzas before her lover finally stepped onto the patio.
His intense stare hit her with a force that she felt to the tips of her toes. She gripped the granite edge of the counter to steady herself. But that tightness in her lungs eased, allowing her to draw a deeper breath.
For three loaded heartbeats, she couldn’t look away or focus on the story Sinner was sharing about his uncle’s pizza shop.
Especially when Hudson crossed the pavers to her in measured steps, oozing confidence.
As he passed behind Izzy to the brick oven, she inhaled deeply, her head filling with his masculine scent. The memory of him opening the gates and him yanking her into his arms surfaced all over again.
Now she couldn’t quit thinking about burying her face against his chest. How safe he felt. How good he smelled.
He leaned past her to peer into the brick oven, and her insides clutched with want.
As Sinner concluded his story, she offered him a smile. “Thank you for sharing your family stories with me. I think it’s time to test your recipe for myself.” She nudged the next pizza in their assembly line toward the SEAL, and he whisked it up on his fingertips, spinning it as he showered it with cheese.
Izzy felt the burn of Hudson’s stare on her as she peeled off her gloves and dropped them in the wastebasket. Her hands were slightly unsteady, but for once, the cause wasn’t her nerves.
He scooped up one of the deep-dish pizzas and snagged two plates from a stack. Then with a slight twitch of his head, he led the way to a vacant table.
The late-autumn evenings were cool, but here on the patio, it was toasty thanks to the heaters providing enough warmth that she didn’t even need a coat.
She watched as he expertly served her a slice of the pie. Not exactly looking at her, but completely aware of her—as aware of her as she was of him.
They picked up their slices and began to eat in companionable silence. At the first bite, her stomach woke up and reminded her that she hadn’t eaten for hours, and her mad dash across the city had expended every ounce of energy she had. For the past hour, she’d been running off pure adrenaline.
Suddenly, a muscled form hovered over her. She looked up to see Sinner.
“Well?” He tipped his square jaw toward the pizza in her hand.
She sat back, pressing a palm over her stomach. “Oh my god. The cheese?”
He groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s too much.”
She chuckled. “I was going to say it’s a moving experience.”
A cocky grin spread over his face. He gave her a single nod and walked away with an entire pie of his own.
Hudson sliced a glance her way. “You just created a monster.”
