Neat (Becker Brothers, #2)(57)

Those lips I loved to taste were painted my favorite shade of dusty rose, and they curled into a soft smile as she watched me gawk at her. “You going to invite me in, or should I grab a blanket from my car and throw a picnic out here on the porch?”

I shook my head, pushing the screen door open and clearing my throat.

I still couldn’t speak just yet, and Mallory chuckled, slipping between me and the door and standing in my foyer as I shut the door behind us. I took her scarf and purse, hung them on my coat rack, and then stood there like an idiot again with my hands in my pockets, eyes trailing over her again.

“You look beautiful,” I managed to murmur, and Mallory grinned wider, stepping into me.

“You look pretty handsome, yourself,” she teased, tugging on the apron fastened around my waist. “Can I see you in only this later?”

That earned her a laugh, and like the first breath after being submerged under water, I relaxed, every muscle easing as I pulled her into me for a hug. “Only if you’re a good girl.”

She pulled back on a pout. “But, I thought you liked it best when I’m bad?”

Her hands slipped down, down, into the back pockets of my jeans, where she squeezed and pulled me closer. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip, eyes dancing over my neck, my jaw, my mouth.

A zip of electricity shot fast and hot down my spine, and I groaned, kissing her mouth hard and quick before I smacked her ass and ushered her toward the kitchen. “Stop distracting the cook.”

She giggled again, but let me guide her deeper inside, and I ran back to check on dinner in the oven as she looked around.

“There’s fresh tzatziki here,” I said, motioning to the plate I’d set up on the kitchen island as I pulled the oven door open. The cheese was melting nicely, the chicken sizzling, the aroma making my stomach growl. “Fresh pita, cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes and such.” I stood again, turning to face her, and she was watching me like I was some mystical creature she’d never seen before. “What?”

“You made me Greek food.”

I grabbed the back of my neck. “You said it’s your favorite.”

“Once,” she reminded me. “Like… in a passing comment. I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I listen to you,” I said on a shrug. “And I have a pretty good memory.”

“Explains how you can recite some sort of knowledge about practically every event that’s ever happened in history.” She laughed, reaching for the bottle of wine I’d set out next to the appetizer and pouring us each a glass. She dipped a hot piece of pita in the dip next, shoving it in her mouth and letting her eyes roll back on a groan. “Homgahgawd, dis ish amazing.”

I grinned, picking up my glass and cheersing it to hers. “Thank you for coming over.”

She swallowed, sipping her wine to wash down the pita before doing a little twirl and giving herself a tour through the living room. “Thank you for reminding my taste buds why pita bread is the best thing to ever exist.”

I watched her from behind the kitchen island as she swept through my home, running her fingertips over the top of my couch, the book-lined shelves, the photo frames that held memories made with my family. She paused in front of one of me and my mom, taken at my high school graduation. She was wearing my graduation cap, one arm around my waist and the other squishing my cheeks together while I pretended to be annoyed, rolling my eyes. The grin I wore gave me away, though — and it was one of my favorite pictures of us together.

Mallory smiled, tracing the glass over my face before she moved on, lifting her wine to her lips and letting her eyes wander the books on my shelf. “You have even more here than you do in your office,” she mused.

“I’ve read all of them except the ones on the top shelf,” I said, walking over to join her. “That’s my to-be-read shelf.”

Mallory lifted a brow, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books on the second shelf. “You’ve read all of these other ones?”

“I told you I’m a nerd.”

She laughed. “I think reading is sexy.” She folded one arm over her middle, balancing the elbow of the one holding her wine glass over it as she looked around more. Her diamond eyes danced in the low light of my living room, and she shook her head, still smiling. “Your place is so… neat. Not that I should be surprised, I guess.” She looked at me then, poking me in the chest with one of the fingers wrapped around her glass. “You need a little color in here. And maybe a little mess, too.”

“You volunteering to be that mess?” I asked, reaching out to hook my finger in the belt loop on her skirt. I tugged her into me, sweeping her hair behind one ear.

“I’d be honored,” she whispered, and then her lips were on mine.

I pulled her into me as much as I could with one hand, each of us balancing our wine glasses while we drank each other in. The kiss was soft and sweet, and far too short when the oven timer went off.

“Mmm,” I said, kissing her nose when I pulled back before I released her. “You better get over there and eat more of that tzatziki. Main course has got about ten more minutes after I add this last bit of cheese.”

“Feta?”

“You know it.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, closing her eyes. “My hero.”