Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(65)

I initiated my first attempt to get out of the door.

Mrs. DeLuca, knowing my love for her lasagna, gave me half a tray and additional containers filled with manicotti, eggplant parmesan, chicken piccata, cookies, cannoli and other various desserts. She always said a meal isn’t complete without a little bit of sugar. By the time I made it out of the house—after three attempts—she’d loaded me down with one more bag. I put all the food into my trunk and once I was behind the wheel, I thought about sending Stephen a text but decided to save all the good news until after I arrived.



. . .



I hauled the bags of food up to my door and set them down on my rug so I could free a hand to get the key in the lock. Before I got the key fully inserted, my door opened and my keys were yanked from my hand.

“Welcome home.” Stephen smiled. “What’s all this?”

I grunted as I grabbed all the bags. “I checked on Vance and his family heard he got shot so they came over to feed him. I wasn’t getting out of there without a few pounds of food to take home.”

“Well here,” he said, bending down. “Let me help you with those. It smells amazing.”

I walked inside and shut the door with my foot then followed closely behind Stephen into the kitchen. I couldn’t help but drink him in. The muscles of his tan arms flexed under the weight of the food as he rounded the table. He hoisted the bags effortlessly onto the counter, his back facing me. His broad shoulders towered over one deep valley leading to his narrow waist. I saw it clearly like the image had been stamped into my brain. When my eyes dipped lower, I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

What the hell was going on with me? I felt like a cat in heat. Food. I’d talk about the food.

“If you’re hungry, we can eat before we need to leave.” I went to the door and engaged the locks then walked back to the kitchen.

“Leave for where?” he asked turning around.

“I have a little surprise for you.” I smiled.

“You do.” He looked up at me with large, expectant eyes.

“We got the message to Avery. My boss is arranging the meeting.”

“What!” He rushed toward me. “I could kiss you.” But instead of kissing me, he wrapped his arms around me and swung me around like a ragdoll. He bent his head low into the crook of my neck and muttered, “Thank you.” His hands encased my ribs, fisting the fabric of my shirt, pulling it tightly across my chest before setting me back on my feet.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “No ‘thank you’ needed. I didn’t really do that much, but my boss would like me to move you to a hotel downtown,” I said, smiling up at him, and a sudden rush of heat flooded my cheeks.

His body stilled and the joy on his face was overtaken by something primal. “You’re taking me to a hotel?” I nodded. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” He raised an eyebrow.

I could only stand there, rooted, and mesmerized. My heart pounded, and I gazed at his lips, swallowing hard and telling myself to move.





Twenty



“I knew you’d able to help me,” Stephen said.

His eyes left mine and drifted to my lips. I watched his face studying my features and Gabe entered my mind. My heart was pulled in two separate directions. I needed comfort. I needed to feel whole. And I knew Stephen could give me those things, but I didn’t know if I could live with myself if I took them again.

His hands weighed on my shoulders, and he reached up to stroke his thumb across the throbbing vein in my neck. That touch, firm and persuasive, was an invitation for more.

The little voice inside my head whispered her warning. Stop, Diana. But I continued to drink in every perfect feature of his face as he continued to study my mouth. Oh, shut up, I told the little voice. Maybe I could let him kiss me. Just once. Again.

No, the voice spoke, commanding and stern.

Damn it! I huffed. The voice was right. I took a step back. “I…um…you’re welcome.” I stammered.

“You’re one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” His voice rolled like ripples of silk caressing my ear.

He took the smallest of steps toward me, negating the inadequate distance I’d put between us. The nagging, rational voice wagged her finger at me, and I took another step back, bumping into one of the chairs.

“We should, uh, eat…and get moving.” I smiled, avoiding his eyes. I stepped around him to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. “The lasagna is my favorite, but some manicotti got slipped in here too, if that sounds good,” I said with my back to him. I shuffled about anxiously, grabbing forks and napkins, whatever I could to avoid facing him. When I finally garnered the courage, I turned and looked at him. “What’ll it be?”

He didn’t answer immediately and made no attempt to hide he’d been watching me. “Whatever you’ll give me,” he said, his voice was deliciously seductive and throaty.

My stomach did flip flops, and I swallowed. Hard. “Lasagna then,” I replied with a twitchy smile.

I turned toward the counter leaving him standing somewhere behind me and dug through the bags. I piled container after container onto the counter, fidgeting with everything. I finally found the one with the lasagna and peeled back the foil lid. Small droplets of condensation dripped onto my wrist. I reached for the checkered towel hanging in front of my oven when his hands descended upon my hips.