Page 55 of Landlord Wars
“Kissing. Kissing is another one of your strong suits,” I said.
“I’m glad you think so, because I plan to kiss you a lot.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Sophia
Max kissedme once more and said, “We should probably eat. Unless you’d rather do other things?” His tone was pure suggestion.
My stomach fluttered. I was more tempted than I cared to admit, now that I’d gotten used to the idea I was actually dating this man.
Holy crap,dating. I wasn’t just dating anyone, I was dating Max—the man I’d loathed for weeks.
“Food,” I said shakily. “Probably best we eat.”
“Pity,” he said, staring at my lips before returning to his seat.
Max served us, and we didn’t waste any time digging in. For me it had more to do with keeping my mouth busy and not focusing on his lips.
And then I realized something as I stared at my plate and chewed. “Hey, this is pretty good.”
He chuckled, a low, rumbly sound that sent a frisson of awareness through my core. “You sound surprised.”
I pointed my fork at him, ignoring my body’s autonomic response to his deep, sexy tone. “You were the one who said you couldn’t cook.”
“I said I didn’t cookoften. But like anything I put my mind to, I’m good at it.” He winked.
“Oh, wow.” I shook my head. “Now I’m not sure we should date. Your ego might smother me.”
He shoved a forkful of food in his mouth and chewed. “Too late. You signed on the dotted line with your lips.”
I so had. “That was very sneaky of you.”
“I will use whatever skills I have to spend time with you.”
My gaze narrowed, and he grinned. But I was all bluster, because regardless of whether we fit or had anything in common, I was attracted to Max. And it wasn’t only his beautiful appearance, though that was distracting. He had a sense of humor beneath that designer fabric, and it made him ten times more appealing.
When I thought back, Max had never been cruel. A cocky ass, yes. Misguided out of a protective instinct, which I could get behind. And now he was showing me the real man. A sometimes rumpled, occasionally silly, decent human being. And he kept bringing up those abs, which intrigued me. Did he really have a washboard under those suits?
I studied him as we polished off our plates. Apparently, I’d been ravenous, because mine was licked clean. “So how often do you cook for women?”
He glanced up as though calculating, then said, “Never.” He scraped the last of his food into his mouth.
Part astonishment and part excitement rushed through me. “You’ve never cooked for a woman?”
Watching him chew was mesmerizing. Jaw muscles flexing, tongue sensually sneaking out to lick juices from his lips…and the man wasn’t even trying to seduce me! Not at the moment, anyway. He shook his head. “I’ve made espresso for my mother. Does that count?”
“Not even a little.”
He nodded. “So, never.”
I tilted my head. “But you had a girlfriend. You dumped her in front of our building.”
He leveled me a look that said he might chase me around the island for such insolence and attack me with aggressive kisses. Or was that just my imagination?
A girl could dream.
“We broke up months ago,” he said pointedly.
