Page 37 of Stolen Bases

“Go sit down like a good boy, and I’ll show you what’s in the bag.” Talia points to the bar stools at the other end of the countertop.

Like the lovesick puppy I am, I do as I’m told. I watch as she moves around my kitchen in comfortable silence, grabbing plates and utensils.

“So, what do you think about the place?” I ask, interested to know what she thinks.

“It’s cute for a rental. I like the whole black and white theme, with the blue pops here and there.” She shrugs, plopping down beside me and pulling the brown sack of food in front of her.

“Rental?” I mumble to myself.

Didn’t my agent tell Romero’s people that this is my place? Forcing my face to stay neutral, I agree with her. Maybe it’s better Nico doesn’t know.

Note to self: get Charles one of those fancy-ass bottles of wine he and his partner like as a thank-you gift. My agent knows what he’s doing. I doubt Nico would have stayed here if he knew I owned the place. And if he didn’t stay here, he wouldn’t have brought his sister.

Talia continues to chatter, pulling out black containers and placing them in front of us. “Oh. I also really like the kitchen and hot tub. And my bed. The sheets are pretty spectacular. So soft. I’d like to know where the owners got them.”

She drops another piece of knowledge in my lap that I save for later. I’ll have to ask my mom where she got the bedding from. She helped me decorate the place, and by helped, I mean she did the entire thing from top to bottom.

“Okay, are you ready?” Her leg bumps mine as she looks up at me with those pretty gray eyes of hers, pulling me further into her web.

“For?” I ask, my voice husky.

“Your favorite food.” She tilts her head to the side and stares at me. I swear she has some sort of X-ray vision because it’s like she can see into my soul.

My palms sweat, and my mouth dries up. Clearing my throat, I do my best to play it cool. “You have my attention.”

She giggles and lifts the lid to the first container, and my jaw drops. “So, I was out on this food tour thing today, and the last stop was this Mexican restaurant. Last night, you said tamales were your favorite food because your sister-in-law’s mother made them or something. Anyway, they had these tamales on the menu and, well, I thought of you.”

“You bought me tamales?”

She bites her lip and looks up at me. “Well, yeah. I’ve never had one, and I thought… Never mind. It’s stupid.”

Talia attempts to close the lid, but I stop her midair.

As soon as my hand wraps around her wrist, electricity shoots through my veins like a shot of adrenaline. Her lips part, and the urge to kiss her hits me like a bolt of lightning. I fight every cell in my body begging me to lean forward and take her lips with mine.

The next time I kiss this woman, it’s going to be because she wants me to, not because the chemistry between us overrules all rational thought. I want her to want to kiss me.

I release my hold on her, letting her hand fall to the counter. “It’s not stupid, itty bitty. Thank you. No one aside from my family has ever gone out of their way to get me food before, let alone my favorite.”

She exhales a raspy breath. “You’re welcome.”

Needing to turn down the heat between us, I joke, “So, you were thinking of me today. Did it have anything to do with the note I left you?”

She rolls her eyes at me as she unwraps a tamale and places it on my plate. “Be serious, Cameron.”

She has no idea how serious I can be. But I’m about to show her and lay some of my cards on the table.

“No shame admitting it. I thought about you.” I grab two lemon wedges from the container and place one on each of our plates. Moving on to avoid making things awkward, I explain how Rylann taught me to eat tamales—with a squirt of lemon juice on top—while visiting her and my brother a couple of years back.

Talia watches as I squeeze the lemon and dribble the juice down the middle before mimicking me.

“Okay, now we eat.” I hold out my fork for her to tap in cheers, which she does with a giggle. The sweet sound burrows deep inside my chest, making something inside there flip around.

She slices through the warm corn masa, lifting a chunk to her mouth. When she wraps her lips around the tines of the fork with a moan, my cock swells and my brain malfunctions.

Fuuu… Why is it so fucking hot and sexy watching her eat?

“Mmm. Now, that’s good. What do you think?” She wipes her mouth on a napkin.

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