Page 56 of The Marriage Bid
“Fine. Do what you want. Thanks for the clothes, but I think it’s time for me to go.”
I grabbed my purse from the couch and was on my way out of the living room when he held me back. “Stop. Please. Don’t you want dinner?”
What was he up to? “Yes. But not with you.” If I spent one more minute around him and in an enclosed space, I didn’t know if I could hold myself back. I was already thinking of a repeat, shameless as it was.
“You haven’t had my food. You’re missing out. And besides, we haven’t finished discussing your plans for the penthouse suites.”
I was sure we were done talking about the plans, but my mind was focused on one peculiar item. “Tyler fucking Hawthorne knows how to cook?” I laughed under my breath.
“Enough to brag about it.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Oh. This I have to see.” I retreated back into the living room and threw my purse onto the couch.
Tyler flashed a small, mischievous smile. “Be prepared to be amazed.”
He went to the kitchen. I followed him there and watched as he took out utensils, pots, pans, and marinated meat from the fridge. When he took out the vegetables, I offered to cut them so I could have something to do with my hands and not ogle him as he worked. He was right. He knew his way around the kitchen and moved as though he had been cooking for years.
“So what do you think?” I said when I gave him the vegetables. He threw them in the pan and sautéed them like a seasoned chef.
Tyler glanced over his shoulder. “Huh?”
“About my plans? I thought we had talked about everything there is to talk about. You approved the last layout I sent to you.”
Flame flashed as he tossed the veggies in the air. “I did?”
“Come on.” I tilted my head to the side. “I knew you weren’t paying attention. Matt’s the one who approved them on your behalf, didn’t he?”
“No, I—there are a few things I have questions about, nothing major.”
I crossed my arms and went to stand beside him. The pot on the plate next to the one he was using was emitting a pasta-like aroma that danced on my nostrils. Casually, I opened the potand was greeted with a giant gust of hot steam. “Shit!” I threw the lid back on the pot, backing away from the stove.
“Fuck, Saff, are you okay?” Tyler rushed to my side and grabbed a towel next to me. He dabbed my face.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have.” I felt like a teenager caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing. “I just wanted to see the progress.”
Tyler chuckled. “It’s fine.” He directed me to a stool and patted my face gently, wiping away the steam. His other hand held my back so gently I felt like a fragile egg. His face was so close to mine that if I leaned forward an inch, our lips would touch. Our encounter from earlier in the day rushed back into my mind again. He had been so passionate and punishing. Two wolves inside him were fighting for control, and even after we were done, I wasn’t sure which one had won.
“Why did you do it?” I blurted it out without thinking.
“This afternoon? I don’t know; I wanted you, and I was tired of seeing you flirting with other men, and I wanted to claim what’s mine.”
He knew what I was referring to as though he had read my mind. “I wasn’t flirting with him. We were just talking.”
“He was looking at you as though he wanted to fuck you.”
“That’s not my fault!”
“I didn’t say it is.”
I sighed. “You shouldn’t assume every guy I am talking to is flirting with me. It makes you seem…”
“Jealous? What if I am?”
My heart skipped a beat.
He folded the towel and placed it on the counter, then caressed my face. “I am tired of pretending that I am not. I am tired of pretending that I don’t care about how other men look at you.”
“I can’t control that.”
