Page 45 of Mister Rival

I lean my elbows over the counter as I look at her. “Today has been fun,” I go on. “You see, I’m not just trying to wine and dine you.”

She laughs lightly, her succulent lips tasting the white wine with an appreciative hum. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. In fact, I declare it, no sex tonight. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.” Lord knows, I want to have sex. But I want to show her that’s not all this is about anymore.

Her eyes pop wide. “Going celibate all of a sudden?”

My face crinkles in amusement. “I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart. I’m actually enjoying your company so much.”

“I’m enjoying yours, too. I never knew you could be anything else other than the douche you’ve pretended to be in the past.”

I laugh heartily, holding my chest, feigning mock hurt. “That cuts deep.”

She throws a near dishrag toward me and I catch it before it hits me in the face. “But seriously, Lucas, thank you for today. It’s been lovely being out here. It’s peaceful.”

I’m glad she likes my home.

I smile and purse my lips, grabbing the stem of my wineglass and taking a large sip.

I want to broach something with her before the night is through. The question is, will she be ready for it?

Chapter Twenty-One

ALISON

If anyone had told me last week that I’d be sitting in Tristan’s beautiful home, nestled amongst the most sycamore trees I’ve ever seen in my life, laughing and joking after a game of pickleball while we drink wine and he cooks for me, I’d say they were crazy.

But here I am, and I can’t deny I’ve had such a nice day spending time with him. Watching him move around the kitchen is so damned sexy. He changed into sweats after our game and is now barefoot over the stove making dinner for us.

“I have to say, I thought you’d live in some high-rise swanky penthouse,” I confess. I didn’t expect his place would be sohomey. It has moody parts of the house, like his office and the wine cellar, but there’s bright parts of it too, and the decor is the old mixed in with the new.

I especially love the original reclaimed high ceiling beams here in the kitchen. I adore the touches of the 1930s splashed through-out with the curved bay windows, flooding the space with light, the parquet flooring and timber features through-out. But I think it’s just the charm of the place that gets me the most.

He shakes his head. “Nah, not for me. I think I like my space too much, and the garden. It feels like a sanctuary, even if I don’t get to spend a lot of time here relaxing.”

“It really is beautiful, all of it,” I say, running my hand over the cool granite countertop. “If you’re ever looking for an agent to sell—” I’m teasing, of course, and he knows it as his eyes flick up to mine while stirring the casserole. Next he grabs out the plates, a cheeky amused look playing on his delicious face.

“I’m not planning on selling any time soon,sweetheart, and even if I were, I’m afraid I wouldn’t hire you.” I know he’s teasing back; if the smile wasn’t enough to tell me, the crinkle at the edge of his eyes always gives it away.

“Is that right?”

“Yep, I’d never get any work done if I was your client. I’d be too busy wanting to do you. Those skirt suits drive me wild.”

I stifle a laugh. Oh he definitely is his own crown of thorns, and I love it. “Would that mean you’d have to listen to me?”

He rubs a hand over his chin thoughtfully. “Would you ever expect that I’d do such a thing?”

I sip my wine, shaking my head at his witty comeback. “You’re too much, do you know that?”

“Maybe I’m just enough?” He tilts his head, the intent look that comes over him sets the butterflies off in my stomach full flight. His ability at unhinging me with just the smallest glance has never been more apparent. I don’t know how we’ll possibly make it through tonight without getting down and dirty. He is so hard to resist.

“You’re plenty,” I agree.

He looks thoughtful for a second, folding his arms across his chest and leaning on the counter in front of me. “What if—” He stops short and I glance at him over my wineglass.

“What if?”

He sighs like he’s resigned to some truth I don’t know about yet. “What if I can’t stay away from you?”

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