The Billionaire's Matchmaker(36)

He reached for the hem of her T-shirt.

She skittered away, laughing lightly. “All right. Fine. I won’t make you wait the four hours it takes to make a good pot of soup. But I will have a glass of milk.”

He said, “Good,” but he got a strange feeling that squeezed his stomach. The easy familiarity didn’t quite feel so easy. Something was wrong. “So what did you do while I was away?”

She met his gaze. “I worked.”

He slid onto a stool. “That’s good. Right?”

“Yes. It was very good.” She paused, took a drink of milk, then her gaze meandered to his. “I also spent time with my friends.”

“That’s even better.”

She smiled. “You’re awfully accommodating.”

“I missed you.” Even as the words came out of his mouth, he hated them, if only because they were so easy to misinterpret. But when Marney smiled, he forgot all about regret.

Her milk finished, she put her glass into the dishwasher then sashayed over. She slid onto his lap. “Now, what were you saying when you first arrived?”

He swallowed. He loved her big brown eyes, loved her pert little nose, loved her kissable lips. “As I recall, I wasn’t saying anything.” He bent his head and kissed her and his world suddenly righted again. He smoothed his hand under her T-shirt, up her sleek spine and unhooked her bra.

She giggled. “Kitchen? Really?”

“Why not?”

She bumped her forehead to his. “I’d planned on showering.” Her voice had dropped to a breathy whisper that sent tingles of delight directly to his groin. “And putting on something sexy for your homecoming.”

“I like you in your birthday suit.” His hand trailed down her spine again. “Warm and naked.”

She laughed, and he deepened their kiss. But the intimacy of her smoky whisper finally hit him. He reminded himself that they were lovers, but there was something more in her voice.

He rose from the stool, taking her with him. “You know what? Maybe we should go to the bed.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Sounds good to me.”

He carried her up the back stairway to her master bedroom. The pretty yellow and gray room greeted him like a long, lost friend, filling him with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He slid her to the floor and she reached for his shirt. After wrestling it over his head, she tossed it across the room and pressed both hands to his chest.

He closed his eyes in ecstasy.

“I’m happy you’re home.”

His eyes popped open. Why had that sounded different?

Her hands moved down the length of his chest and opened the snap of his trousers. Without finishing the job, they glided back up as her lips met his chest. She sprinkled warm, wet kisses across his pecs, down his abs, and along the waistband of his jeans.

His control snapped. He unzipped his pants, and jumped out of them. He got rid of her T-shirt and jeans, her red bra and her panties and was inside her so quickly the only response he got was breathy moan.

There. That was better.

…

He awoke the next morning totally confused. The silken sheets caressing his naked body reminded him that he was at Marney’s. He glanced at the clock, saw it was after six and bolted up in bed.

He’d slept over.

He bounced out of bed, yanked on his trousers and shirt, and ran downstairs. No harm done. He could quickly make himself some breakfast to eat as he checked his texts and voice mails, and race home, and get into his uniform before his seven o’clock starting time. All without waking Marney.

In five minutes he had eggs, bacon, toast sitting on the countertop.

“You made me breakfast.”

His gaze swung to the kitchen entryway. Dressed in a T-shirt and panties, with her dark hair tousled and her eyes sleepily sexy, she nearly coaxed him back to bed, but her comment confused him. When he looked down at the mountain of bacon, and four eggs, instead of two, four pieces of toast, instead of two, he came back to the real world.

He had made her breakfast.

“I didn’t mean to.”

She ambled over to him. “Didn’t mean to?”

He looked at the toast and bacon again. Why four eggs? Why so much toast? Where the hell was his head? “Seriously, I don’t know why I did this.”

She set her hand on the hand he had leaning on the granite top of the center island. “You don’t know what’s happening here, do you?”

“Not a clue.” But the breathy, uncertain whisper of her voice told him what she was about to say.

“I think we’ve fallen in love.”

And from the wobble in her words, she wasn’t any happier about it that he was. Except, it didn’t matter what she thought. Or what he thought. He had rules. Standing by those rules kept him grounded, safe. And if he had broken a few of them, that could only mean he was comfortable. Maybe too comfortable?

“Marney, this isn’t about love. This is about me getting accustomed to you. Too accustomed.”

She stepped back.

An arrow shot into his heart at the pain that exploded in her sexy dark eyes. But that wasn’t his fault. “Hey, I told you. I don’t want to be in love. I like the fact that we’re friends. I like that we can talk to each other about anything. But if you think you’re in love, I’m out that door.”