Page 42 of RomeAntically Challenged
“Of course it’s not bland,” she finally said. “Which is why I want to learn how to make it.”
“You know Grandma never wrote it down,” her mom said. “It’s all by feel. She showed me. I’d have to show you.”
Which meant Annie would have to go home. Not happening anytime soon. Or her mother would have to come to her. Annie thought about Emmitt and his glow-in-the-dark undies.
Never going to happen!
For a psychologist, her mother had extreme passive-aggressive tendencies. Probably why she never treated people, just studied them.
“Maybe you could guesstimate the amounts and e-mail me the recipe.” She could figure out the rest. How hard could it be? “Thanks so much—gotta go. Love you both.”
“We love you, Flapjack,” her dad said, and then disconnected, most likely so that her mother couldn’t invite herself and the Shuberts down for a fun cooking lesson at Annie’s.
Silently, she sat there a moment, recalling the events that had brought her to this point in her life: being asked to be her parents’ third wheel at her ex-fiancé’s wedding while sitting in a parking lot in Rome, Rhode Island.
How had everything gotten so out of control? And when did Annie’s opinion come to mean so little in her mother’s eyes?
A loud tap on the passenger’s-side window made her shriek and smack her head hard on the headrest. Cussing, she rubbed the smarting area and turned to see what had struck the glass. Only to find Emmitt, standing on the other side of the pane and laughing.
“Oh, come on. I give up.” She sank down into the seat and closed her eyes.
“I can still see you,” his gravelly—and extremely annoying—voice said from outside the car. “Who are you hiding from?”
Everyone, she thought. In fact, she was seriously considering moving to Siberia so she could get some privacy. Otherwise, this was how her time in Rome was going to play out. Until one of them found another place to live, they were going to be all up in each other’s space.
Annie had left her own personal hell in Connecticut and wound up living with the devil. It explained why her body tingled with heat every time he was around.
This wasn’t going to work. Someone had to give in, and it wasn’t going to be her. Why should she be the one to move?Shewas most definitely not the problem. Everyone else was.
Straightening, she locked eyes on Emmitt and spoke loudly enough for her voice to carry through the closed window. “I’m not hiding.”
His lips curled into a grin that slowly made its way up to his eyes. “As your friend, I should warn you to never play poker. Or if you do, make sure I’m there. The starting bet will be socks to get them out of the way up-front.”
He didn’t have to yell to be heard. His voice just slid through the glass and down her spine. The jerk.
She pulled out a slip of paper and a pen, then scribbled a note. She cracked the window just enough to slip it through.
He took his sweet-ass time reaching for the note, then slowly slid it from her fingers. Before he read it, he said, “I’m flattered, but I already have your number. It’s on the rental agreement. Remember?”
Oh, she remembered. “Information that, going forward, will be used for business purposes only.”
“I thought I made it clear when you were naked in my kitchen, I’d love for you to be my business.”
And there he was, lightening the mood and making her giggle. Annie didn’t realize how giggle deprived her life had been. “The note,” she reminded him.
He unfolded the note, and a big grin spread across his face.
“What?” she asked with an offhanded shrug. But—holy trouble—his grin was as contagious as the measles, only a lot more fun. “As your roommate, I feel it’s my duty to point out ‘that the eighties called, and they want their mirrored aviators back,’” he read. Casually resting his forearm on the roof of the car, he leaned down and, even through the glasses, she could feel the intensity of his stare.
He’d cleaned up, she noticed. She also noticed that his scruff was trimmed, leaving a perfect five o’clock shadow that made his lipsoh-somesmerizing. He was wearing the heck out of a pair of jeans and a dark gray T-shirt that did little to hide the muscles beneath. He also had on a ballcap, turned backward, lending a boyish charm to the whole rugged ladies-man vibe he had going on.
Then, as if he were Magic Mike and this was some kind ofI’ll show you minemoment, he made a big deal of lazily lowering the sunglasses down his nose, then tilting his head just enough to give her a glimpse of those tempting brown eyes twinkling back.
A move, she was sure, he’d used on half the population in town. The female half. Well, Annie told herself, she wasn’t going to be sucked in to whatever game he was playing. But as she told herself this, she felt herself being sucked in.
Not by his ridiculous grin, although it was a pretty powerful grin, but by the patch of raw skin splitting his left eyebrow. There was also the faint hint of yellow starting at his temple and disappearing into his hairline that was concerning. Together they hinted at a different story about why he’d come home unexpectedly.
As if sensing her interest, he straightened and pulled his cap around and down low. Annie knew when to press and when to back off. His body was flashing a big redDo Not Pushbutton.
