Page 100 of Three Reckless Words

No.

You’re doing it again.

Winnie, you arenotsettling down with Archer Rory.

“My mother liked the honey,” he says, surprising me. “She tried it, actually.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you tried it yet?” I help assemble my pizza, putting way too much pepperoni on top. What can I say—I like some spice and balance has never been my thing.

“Not yet.”

“Not even on toast? Man, what are you doing with your life?” I roll my eyes and cluck my tongue at him.

With a quick sly smile, he opens the fridge and pulls out the small jar. There’s only a little purple left, but it’s beautifully strained, just as bright as I remember.

“If you want to force-feed me, I won’t stop you,” he says deadpan.

Holy crap, is he joking?

But his face is set like stone.

The image of feeding Archer Rory that purple honey hooks into my head and doesn’t let go.

…I guess maybe Icouldput it on a spoon and pass it over without bursting into flames.

Unless he makes a big show of licking it off.

My toes scrunch like caterpillars.

He wouldn’t dare… would he?

I know I’m being silly, thinking he’d ever want to make me imagine licking it off his hard, punishing body.

Time to put my fantasies to bed and do something less erotically charged.

“I have another thought,” I mutter, practically stuffing my head inside his giant fridge.

I find sriracha, garlic, ketchup, and soy sauce, and start mixing them together in a small bowl. Finally, I add a dab of honey from the jar.

“We’ll just give it a little drizzle, if that’s okay? Or we can set it aside as a dipping sauce for the crust,” I tell him.

“Sure we can. How did I know you’d find a way to pair that damn honey with the pizza?” Archer chuckles.

“Hey now, honey goes with almost everything if you try,” I say pointedly.

“Don’t know why I ever thought anything else.”

My ears burn, still stuck on double meanings.

“Smart-ass.” I take another small sip of wine, knowing if I have too much, it’ll lower my defenses dangerously.

“Not the first time someone’s called me that.”

Maybe not, but I can’t imagine many people have insulted him to his face.

The more I get to know him, the scarier he seems, especially with the big dark military tattoos creeping down his arm.

With the wine putting courage in my blood, I reach out and trail one finger along them.

---