No Weddings (No Weddings #1)(33)

Another deep breath brought in the incredible scents of her kitchen. “Damn, woman.” I searched over her shoulder when she broke our contact and ushered me inside. “What’re you cooking in there? I’ve died right here on your doorstep and gone to heaven.”

She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a green sweater, its V-neck teasing forward a nice amount of cleavage with her stance. “You think you’ve earned heaven?”

I snorted. “Hell no. But a man can hope.”

She grinned, eyes glinting with humor. “You better earn it, Cade. Good things only come to those who deserve it.”

“Are we talking about food?” I had a strong feeling we weren’t. And I was so on board with the earning thing. Food and otherwise.

Hannah’s game was in full force, though. She simply licked her lips, regarding me, then smirked and disappeared around the corner.

I stood there holding the bag. Literally.

Exhaling, I studied the furnishings of the small living room. One floor lamp in the far corner and two table lamps were lit. The bright space was comfortable; two worn chairs in pale yellow fabric sat by the window, angled toward each other with a small maple table in between. A chess set carved of semiprecious stones, one side appearing to be obsidian and the other jade, sat on the square tabletop. A built-in bookshelf filled with well-worn but clearly loved books lined the wall. Across from the chairs was a matching sofa with two colorful pillows.

“I’m opening every cabinet and drawer now…” I called out, smiling as I lifted a silver picture frame. A teenaged version of Hannah stood in an elderly woman’s embrace. A frame beside it held a younger woman and a little girl.

“I’d expect nothing less,” she replied from behind white painted shutters that had been closed, screening what would have been an open window area between the rooms.

A metal bang sounded out, and I imagined it was the oven door. Fresh scents bombarded me. Feeling like a peeping tom who’d trespassed inside, I abandoned my investigating. I’d rather do my snooping under her watchful gaze. When I could tease her mercilessly.

Following the sounds and smells, I rounded the corner and entered a decent-sized kitchen. “My God. What is all this?”

Hannah stood by a small table for two in front of a bay window. She put down a platter between two place settings. “Duck à l’orange, braised parsnips and golden beets with shallots, and sautéed sugar snap peas.” She came toward me, picking up a dark wine bottle with two hands, angling the label forward for my approval. “And an Argentinian malbec.”

“Did you make dessert?” I glanced back over to the table. Three small candles flickered in squat glass holders.

A delicate brow arched. “What do you think?”

I smirked. “I think you’re trying to impress me.” I smiled at her soft laugh.

“Do I need to impress you?”

I shook my head. “No. Not even a little.”

When I set the brown paper bag down on marble surface of her small rolling kitchen island, her gaze shifted to it. “What’s that?”

“Ah, ah, ah, that is for after dinner.” I grasped her shoulders, turning her back toward the table as she grabbed the neck of the wine bottle. I swiped the bottle opener from her counter and took the bottle from her.

After I poured us each a glass, I glanced up and out through the largest of the three windows to the view behind her house. Garden lights edged a large deck and a walkway that led to a wide body of water. Across the way, the lighting of another house shimmered off the waves.

“Nice view.” I sat across from her, holding my glass up.

“Thanks.” She raised hers.

Normally we toasted silly things. Once, Ben toasted Mase’s left shoe—that it always be next to his right.

I tilted my head. “Why don’t you give the toast tonight?” This was her house, and she’d never been given a turn. Overrun by three hungry overbearing men, she’d hardly had the chance.

Her expression softened as she glanced down to the table in thought. When her gaze met mine, her eyes blazed with passion. “To business partners and friends.”

And so much more. She didn’t voice the thought, maybe she wasn’t ready. But I saw the desire in her eyes.

“I’ll drink to that.” Friends for now, so much more would come in time.

As we dug into the delicious meal she’d made, she grew quiet. Although the silence was comfortable, my curiosity won out. “Do you own this house?”

She nodded, swallowing down a sip of wine. “It was Gran’s. She raised me through high school and died just last year.”

“Something happened to your parents?”

Her expression fell, sadness shadowing her eyes. “Parent. My mom was a single parent. She’d never been sick a day in her life. Then she got food poisoning and died in the hospital.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Hannah.”

“It’s okay. Gran and I had already been close.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.” She leaned over and whispered, “No dog or cat either.”

I laughed. “Is that an important item to take note of? Are you allergic? Do I have to take back the kitten in the paper bag?”

She gaped, turning to stare at the bag on the island. “There is not an animal in that bag.”