Page 60 of Most Likely to Fear Love

“Alright. It smells great.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

I moved to stand near the counter, all the while trying to pretend I was more than just barely dressed.

He handed me a plate, his fingers brushing against mine, and I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through me.

We moved in sync, but tension crackled between us. When he reached for a spoon, he brushed against me, making me stiffen. His breath warmed my neck, and I bit my lip to stifle a gasp.

“You okay?” His voice was deep and rumbly and oh fuck, I loved that.

“Yep. I’m fine.” My voice was high and a little squeaky. I did not love that. “You?”

“I’m great. How much chicken do you want?” He held up three slices with the tongs.

“Yeah, that’s good. Thanks.”

I was hyper-aware of how close he was, the heat of his body radiating against mine. Such a turn on, just serving me chicken.

“You’re all set.”

As I picked up my plate and went to move toward the table, I felt his hand trail down my back and lightly over my ass and I couldn’t hold back the gasp this time. I kept walking, risking a glance over my shoulder at him. His eyes were firmly on my butt.

At the table, Harle set his plate down and turned to me, his eyes dark and searching as they locked onto mine. He stepped closer, his hand coming up to lightly trace the edge of my jaw before dropping back to his side. “You good?”

I nodded, a bit too quickly, and tried to smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He watched me for a moment longer, his gaze softening, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and almost teasing. “Let’s eat.”

He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down, my heart rate still skittering. Harle sat across from me, and as we began to eat, I tried to focus on the food, on anything other than the way his eyes seemed to linger on me, like he couldn’t wait to finish the meal and get to what was next.Annd there goes the overthinking and tensing up again. Fuck.

“Funniest thing happened the other day.”

“Yeah?” At least my voice sounded normal.

“Buddy got himself all tangled up in the hose. Can’t even think how he did it. Before I could even get to him, Max decided to lend a hand.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly. So Max is barking at the hose, Buddy is barking at Max, they’re both barking at me and we’re all wet.”

He was trying so hard to put me at ease, telling silly stories about the dogs. And here I was, sitting across from him in lingerie he’d bought, about to spend ten days having sex with him to make a baby. A baby. The thing I’d wanted for so long, reduced to a contract and a timeline and... god, his forearms looked amazing as he gestured about Buddy’s escape attempt.

I forced a laugh at the right moment, trying to focus on his story rather than the surreal reality of the situation.

“They are such dorks, I swear.”

This wasn’t how I’d imagined starting my family. Then again, nothing in my life had gone according to plan.

“They really are.”

He told a few more funny stories. I pretended to relax. Then dinner was done.

“Come on, let’s get this cleaned up.”

I nodded and followed Harle to the kitchen, my hands full of dishes. As we started cleaning up, it felt so weirdly domestic, I almost forgot what I was wearing.

Until the dishes were all stacked in the dishwasher and it was switched on.

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