Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(45)

“Okay, so I’ll run to the store and be right back. Sit tight and don’t answer the door.” I walked over to the coffee table and picked up the remote, tossing it gently into his lap. “I shouldn’t be long.”

I took a step away, but Stephen caught my wrist. He stood, gently swinging me around to face him, then slowly ran his hands up and down my arms. “Thank you,” he whispered.

The intense heat between us sparked a fire inside me. My pulse quickened and unwanted thoughts trickled in, baiting my impulses. I had to step away before he pulled me into a point of no return. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened between us again.

“I…uh…don’t mention it. Be right back.” I turned and left.



. . .



Over an hour later I returned with armloads of groceries. I lugged them up the steps with beads of sweat gathering in my cleavage. It was ungodly hot and humid. When I opened the door, I instantly felt relief from the cool air blanketing my skin. When Stephen heard me, he hopped up from the couch and met me at the door with a charismatic smile. He took a few bags off my arms.

“Is there much more?” he asked, openly studying my appearance.

His gaze roamed my bare shoulders, and my chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. I suddenly wished I’d put on a T-shirt rather than a tank top. I may as well have been naked the way he was looking at me. Every single pore on my body was aware of him.

“No, I loaded it all up. I usually only buy what I can carry.” I laughed. “This way I only come home with what I really need.”

“You’re a smart girl. You’d fit in well in New York.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

Sleeping butterflies stirred in my belly, but I couldn’t allow myself to think about what he’d said. It was loaded phrases exactly like that which got girls into trouble. I continued to walk into the kitchen and dumped my bags on the table.

We began putting everything away, shuffling around each other. I opened the pantry and suddenly felt the pressure of his hand on my hip. He reached around me, and the silky hairs of his bare arm sent jolts of electricity surging through my veins. I needed to throttle the dizzying current racing through me. I stepped out of the way and put distance between us.

I grabbed a loaf of squishy, white bread and some deli meats then laid them out on the counter next to the sink. “How about a sandwich?”

“Sure, that sounds great.” He gathered the frenzy of plastic bags littering the floor. “What do you do with these?”

“Oh, just shove those in the corner of the pantry. I’ll take them to the recycling bin at the front of the store next time I go. I really should buy those reusable bags. I don’t know why I haven’t.” I giggled nervously.

He balled up the bags and put them in the pantry joining me at my side. He tossed a bag of Cheetos down on the counter. “So you’re a junk food junkie, huh?”

“We all have our weaknesses and Cheetos and wine are mine. I admit it.” I shrugged.

“I’m surprised. Your body looks like you don’t eat anything but chicken and broccoli.”

Heat radiated from his body, and my skin rose up to touch him with a collective pucker. I pushed back a wayward strand of my hair that had fallen over my eye as I looked at him. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll bring these over in a sec,” I said still fighting to catch my breath.

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Thanks,” he said, hesitating a moment as if debating something before walking away.

I watched his confident stride out of the corner of my eye. When he sat, I finally relaxed and made the sandwiches. I piled oven roasted turkey and sweet layers of honey ham with slices of buttery baby Swiss cheese onto two slices of zero-nutrient, white bread. Sure the package said “Potato and Fiber,” but I knew better. I never acquired a taste for the multigrain, wheat stuff packed with birdseeds my mom made me eat growing up.

I plated our sandwiches and poured a small pile of crunchy Cheetos next to each. I laid the plates on the table and grabbed a couple glasses of water before I sat down and joined him.

“Dig in,” I said.

“This is really great. Thanks again. I can’t tell you how much better I already feel being with you.” He picked up his sandwich and sunk his teeth in with a generous, manly bite.

I grabbed half of my sandwich and shoved a few Cheetos into it for the ultimate sandwich experience and began eating as well. “So you’ve been living out of your car since last week?” I asked covering my mouth as I discreetly tried to unstick a doughy ball of bread stuck to the roof of my mouth with my tongue.

“Is it that obvious?” Stephen answered with a laugh.

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting anything.” His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was slightly matted down, but it didn’t do anything to take away from his appeal.

“No, no,” he answered with another laugh. “I bet it probably shows.”

“Why didn’t you stay in a Bates motel type place? I bet they would have taken cash?” I asked and took another bite.

“Uh, I don’t stay in places like that. They’re usually pretty dirty and some of them have bugs.” He grimaced. “I happily slept in my car.”

I laughed. “Say no more, I’m not fond of bugs either.”