Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(54)

Watching him recover was almost as good as the sex. When his breath returned to normal and his eyes cleared, he pressed one of her hands to his still thundering heart as he’d done once before. “If I tell you something,” he murmured, “are you going to freak out?”

Her stomach tightened with nerves. “Of course not.” Totally. She was totally going to freak out.

“I like you.” He watched her face carefully, so she had to work at keeping it even. “A lot, Ivy.”

The words both thrilled and terrified, and she bit her lower lip.

“What?” he asked.

“There’s a big difference between liking the idea of someone and actually liking who they are,” she whispered.

“I like both. Come here, Trouble, and let me give you my oral argument.”

With a snort, she tugged her hand free.

Kel laughed and tucked her close before rolling her beneath him. And then he slid down her body and proceeded to give her the best oral argument she’d ever had.



It was another hour before Kel got around to cooking. Cooking. As in honest to God standing in her kitchen like he owned it, cooking her steak and baked potatoes.

“Wow,” she murmured, once again wearing nothing but his shirt. She loved that he wore button-downs. She loved pulling up the collar and pressing her nose to the material so she could inhale his lingering scent.

She’d clearly lost her mind.

Kel, in nothing but low slung jeans, squatted down, balancing on the balls of his bare feet to check the potatoes he had in the oven. “You keep saying wow. It’s good for a man’s ego.” Rising, he turned to the toaster because he was making cheesy bread too. His index finger repeatedly pushed down the level of the toaster.

Brushing his hand aside, she slammed the lever down, forcing it to stay in place. “It’s temperamental.”

“Like its owner.”

She sent him a long watch-it-buddy look over her shoulder and he smiled like the big bad wolf, making good spots quiver. “And for clarification, I was saying wow because the steaks smell amazing and I’m ravenous,” she said, hopping up onto the old Formica to sit cross-legged.

His dark eyes met hers. His hair was a mess thanks to her fingers, and he seemed to have bite marks on his neck and shoulder. Oops. “Okay,” she admitted. “It’s not the steak. It’s you.”

He rose and expertly flipped the steaks. “Yeah?”

“To be honest, no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

He stopped and looked at her in surprise. “Never?”

She gave a slow shake of her head.

He set down the tongs and came to her, pulling her legs from beneath her so that they hung off the edge of the counter. Putting his hands on her thighs, he pressed them open, making a home for himself in between.

Then he kissed her. Long and deep and so sensually that she tried to get into his jeans again, but with a low husky laugh, he caught her hands.

“Didn’t think a man as sexy as you would need such a long recovery time,” she teased.

“Believe me, I’m recovered. But I’m going to feed you first.”

She rocked into the proof that he’d indeed recovered. Fully. “I know something I could nibble on,” she murmured huskily, but her stomach chose that moment to ruin the moment by rumbling, loudly.

Kel grinned. “Steak first.” He gave her a hard, promising kiss and then he turned his back on her to return to the food. Which was when she saw the nail indentions on his back.

She sucked in a breath. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

He pulled the steaks and plated them, adding the potatoes. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“But—”

He met her gaze. “I’ve been numb for a very long time, Ivy. I’m not numb tonight. Actually, I haven’t been numb since the morning I met you, when you gave me that sweet sass at your taco truck, not to mention the best tacos of my entire life. I knew going in you had claws, but that’s okay. I don’t mind rough, and I don’t mind pain if it means I’m feeling again.”

Her mouth opened and then closed.

He gave her a half smile. “Did I just render you speechless?”

“I . . .” She shook her head, unbearably touched at his admission. “Yes, but don’t worry, it won’t last long.” She shook her head again to clear it. “I’ve also never had a guy be so open and honest before.”

He set the two plates on her tiny table and came for her, scooping her up and plopping her into one of the chairs. “Nothing personal, Ivy, but the men in your life have all been assholes.”

She choked out a laugh. “Yeah. Maybe. Mostly.”

He’d already poured wine. Handing her one of the glasses, he gently touched his to hers.

She held her breath, afraid he was going to say something too deep, too meaningful, and she felt panic seize her by the throat.

“To more stormy nights,” he murmured, gaze on hers.

She let out her breath and felt warmth glide through her. Warmth that he’d given her and other emotions beat back the panic. Affection. Desire . . .

“To more stormy nights,” she agreed.





Chapter 20




When the going gets tough, what would Tina do?