Page 24 of White Collar Rancher

“Worth it.”

She sputtered a laugh. “I’ll finish setting the table and you grab the meal.”

Eating with her after agreeing to sex in a few hours was a slow form of torture. He spent half the meal watching her lips close around her fork. The delicate way she chewed. How she tilted her head and studied her plate as she swallowed, like she was strategizing just how to scoop up her next bite. She stuck to her risotto and he cleaned up the two pork chops.

“I have cupcakes for dessert,” she said as they each finished the last of their meal. “Homemade.”

His stomach instantly made room. Anything this woman made, he’d eat. His taste buds seemed to form a special attachment to any food prepared by her.

“You bake, too?” They’d spent so much time together recently, he felt like he should know that. Yet she’d never brought over goodies, homemade or otherwise.

“I bake when I’m… To relax. I needed a little extra kick after this week.” She got up and disappeared into the kitchen. He cursed the long sweater for hiding the sway of her ass.

When she reappeared she held a round stand with a wide base in her hand. A dozen cupcakes with delicate pink and green frosting were stacked on top.

“Are those flowers?” A smile lifted his lips as he imagined Priya concentrating over a piping bag. That little line forming between her brows, her lips puckered in concentration.

“A poor version, yes. I haven’t had much time to play in the kitchen since I started working.” She scooted the serving dish closer to him and took a seat. “Until now.” That cryptic tone again.

He snagged a sweet. “Why now?”

She stilled for only a moment while peeling away the wrapper. “I’m home,” she said lightly. “Back to cleaning ladies and yard service.”

Justin looked around. “No shit? They hire out all that?” He could hire someone to cook, but with a big family, he didn’t need more people in his business.

“Mom and Dad want to be free to do what’s important. When we were kids, the stress was on studying, not vacuuming—more so for me, at least—and experiencing the world outside of Moore, though I wasn’t encouraged to travel as much as Devya.” Another shadow crossed her face. Did she miss traveling? “You may have noticed I liked to tidy things.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve noticed.” The corner of the nursery was back to its disaster zone state since she hadn’t been there, and a pile of dishes waited to get loaded in the dishwasher.

“It’s a good outlet for me when life gets overwhelming. But here…” She waved her arm around and rolled her eyes.

“Constantly clean.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sure your parents would rather you concentrate on other things than cleaning their house.”

“Their days being tied down are over. They’ve moved on to travel.” Her tone was flat as she nibbled the icing off her dessert.

Okay. She wasn’t going to be more forthcoming. Then all he could do was to take her mind off whatever bothered her. To do that, he’d have to keep the night moving.

While she picked at her cupcake, he polished off two more using less than stellar table manners, then cleaned up the dishes. She may like cleaning, but he had other plans for her energy. It was time to go.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he said.

She followed him to the door. The house really was nice. The mix of upscale Midwest with sudden bursts of color was so…Priya. Nothing like his old ranch house, which had survived two boys and a tomboy sister.

He turned to face her. She hugged her arms around herself. Back to being self-conscious. It was cute, but he wanted to reassure her. “No pressure. Seriously. We’re only going to do what you’re comfortable with.”

“Rule number one about exclusive friends with benefits?”

“That’s not talking about it, which I didn’t plan to do.” He stepped into his boots and nodded his head toward her before he slipped out the door.

The cool air wafted over and around him. Just what he needed. Thankful to avoid the awkwardness of buying protection while carting a baby around, he made a quick stop at the gas station, then navigated the short drive to the Jorgensons’.

He sat in his truck for longer than he meant to. Why was guilt creeping in for picking up his kid? Maybe it was the box of condoms on the passenger seat. His ex’s parents had watched his son while he’d made plans for sex with their late daughter’s best friend.

What a fucking mess. But they didn’t have to know. No one would find out. He got out and jogged up the walk. Martin met him at the door.

---