Love, Chocolate, and Beer (Cactus Creek #1)(49)

“No penalty,” she decreed, her smile devilishly pleased as she backed up and put an extra swank in her step, knowing his eyes were x-raying her thin yoga pants the entire time. Instead of coming after her to do something about it though, he simply swept a tortured glance over her and then fled to the kitchen, mumbling about them both needing to get work done. Dani sighed and followed him back there. Damn boy scout. “Hey, what does this thing do?” she asked, picking up a random utensil from the shelf as if it were the most awe-inspiring thing she’d ever seen.

“Not going to work, honey. Get back to those forms.” His voice was comically stern.

An indignant pout warred with her laughing eyes. “But I really want to know.”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “Okay, how about this? You help me finish up here and then I’ll help you with your forms after.” He slid a warm hand down her back. “And since you have the attention span of a puppy right now, we can even take a ten-minute break first.”

“Thirty,” she countered automatically.

“If I’d said thirty, you would’ve said forty, wouldn’t you’ve? Just for the hell of it?”

Her look pretty much said ‘duh.’

He suppressed a grin, attempting to look annoyed instead. “You’re so damn contrary.”

“No, I’m a businesswoman. I negotiate.”

“Well, I’m a businessman so here’s my counteroffer: ten-minute break—” His eyes danced when she opened her mouth to reject the offer already. “And I cook you dinner tonight.”

She was startled. They hadn’t had a ‘night in’ yet. On top of that, he wanted to cook for her? Besides her workers, no one had made a meal for her since...she couldn’t even recall when.

His smile was gentle, patient. A dozen reasons why she should say no to such a romantic gesture ran through her head. Half of them were warnings from her heart while the rest were reminders from her guilty conscience—Luke probably wouldn’t be so eager to slave over a meal if he knew it was for a woman who’d tried to put him out of business not too long ago.

But the one reason to say yes was right in front of her. “Deal,” she agreed almost shyly.

“Okay, so we’ll have dinner and just veg after. TV, video games, whatever you want. We don’t even have to call it a date. I just want you to kick back and relax.”

Aw, that was sweet. “Oh, it’ll count as a date,” she assured him softly. Suddenly, the air was no longer playful, and his expression was decidedly hungry now as she slid her arms around him and asked, “So this ten-minute break. What did you have in mind?”

His lips answered without saying a word.

They did eventually get back to work as planned…about thirty minutes later.



*



“OHMIGOD, THAT WAS the best ribeye ever.”

Luke grinned at Dani’s moaned declaration as she fell onto her couch, stuffed.

“It’s all in the beer marinade,” winked Luke, loving this lazy, languid Dani. “Luckily, I have an in with a hot brewmaster who was able to sneak me some of the really good stuff.”

“Which you made absolute magic with in the dessert too.” She sighed in bliss. “I ate so much I can’t move. I think you might have to be my servant for the rest of the night.”

“Works for me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Traditional servants help mistresses into their night clothes before bed, right?”

A couch pillow went airborne and landed limply at his feet.

He shook his head. “That’s just sad. Poor baby. You don’t even have the strength to throw this tiny little cushion at me. Alright, since you clearly need it, I’ll help undress before your shower too.” His belabored expression turned teasingly predatory as he advanced on her.

It didn’t register until he was within arm’s length of her that she wasn’t trying to escape.

“Okay,” she murmured softly after a beat.

He froze. Shit, he should’ve known better than to play this game with Dani. Who was he kidding? She’d win every time. “You are one cruel, cruel woman.” He backpedaled ruefully. “Wave food in front of a starving man, why don’t you.”

“Okay,” she replied again, her voice now bedroom soft, and when he checked, more asleep than not.

Damn.

He grimaced as he adjusted his jeans and leaned down to slide her hair back from her face. Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, he suggested softly, “Honey, why don’t you go on and shower so you can get to bed. You’re not used to waking up as early as I am; I should’ve thought about that before planning this dinner. You brewed all day today and you’ve got the dayshift tomorrow; you need to rest. So get going. I’ll clean up out here.”

With a groan, she dragged herself up off the couch. “But that’s not fair,” she managed around a stifled yawn. “You cooked, I should do the dishes.”

“Next time. Go on. I’ll let myself out when I’m done.”

“Nooo,” she protested even as she was slowly shuffling toward the hallway. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye. Promise? Even if I’m out cold?”

His own reply was muted out by the blood rushing in his ears—a reaction he was helpless to stop at the sound of her words getting muffled behind clothing.