He grinned. “It’s more than okay, Stace. It’s perfect.”
…
Stacey bit down on her lower lip. Thank God her instincts were on target with the whole dinner idea, because it was only now that her head acknowledged what her heart had known all along. Grant was important to her. Deeply, irrevocably important in more than the best-friend-since-they-were-kids way.
Their gazes locked, and a thrill shot through her, zipping past her defenses so she was totally focused on this man, this moment. She took a deep breath and indicated the table with one hand. “Put some music on, and I’ll get dinner on the table.”
“Don’t you want help?”
“Oh, no, I’ve got it. It won’t take me long.” She’d probably burn in hell for lying about making the food, but she’d seen the pleasure on Grant’s face when he’d thought she had actually cooked tonight. No way she’d disappoint him now.
She opened the oven door and pulled out the tray with individual chicken potpies on them. Carly had said to make sure to bake them until the crust was brown. Was this brown enough? She searched her memory for some reference point for brown and came up empty.
It was as brown as a paper bag. Was that what she meant?
Ugh. Stacey needed to take her sister’s advice and exude confidence. This was just food, for Pete’s sake. She ate the stuff, so she didn’t need to make it any more complicated than it already was. Still, maybe she should text her sister.
“What’d you make?”
Startled, she dropped her phone, catching it just before it fell onto the tiled floor. “Don’t scare me like that.” She set the phone facedown on the counter. So much for getting Carly’s opinion.
“Sorry,” Grant said, stepping into the kitchen. “It just smells so good in here.”
“These are chicken potpies.” She arranged them on dinner plates. “I hope you’re hungry.” She stuffed down the temptation to own up to the fact she didn’t make them. After all, what harm could actually come from it? And one day she really would learn to cook. Maybe.
“Smells good.” He smiled. “You sure I can’t help with anything?”
Well, shoot, if the man was going to insist, why not? “Salad’s in the fridge if you’d like to bring it out.”
And it was just like it always was, the two of them working side by side, laughing and joking so that by the time everything was on the table, she was pretty sure the evening would be perfect.
“You know something? I get it,” he said. His voice softened and he smiled. “I totally get it now.”
“Huh?” She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “Sorry. You lost me there.”
“This. All of this.” He spread his arms wide. “What you do for other people, how you set up these dinners. You create memories for them. Good memories.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I thought you knew that. You mentioned it when I told you about Julian.”
“I know, but I was trying to make you feel better. I didn’t really get it. Until now.”
“Well, I suppose that’s the general idea. But it really depends on the client. Sometimes it’s just as important to connect the present to the future. You know, to build on the strength of a relationship so there’s enough to fuel it forward.” At least, that’s what’d made sense to her, and she had repeat business to back her up.
“You’re really good at what you do. You know that, don’t you?”
She blinked, a well of emotion opening up inside her and bubbling out. It was validation. One she’d needed to hear badly from him, only she hadn’t realized it until now. Warmth spread through her, the moment stamped onto her as powerfully as sunshine on a summer day. “Thank you.”
He turned his attention back to the tablescape she’d created, and the steaming chicken potpie in front of him. “Thank you.” He shook his head. “This is amazing.”
“You’re welcome.” There was that warmth thing going on again. If she wasn’t careful, she’d combust.
Maybe their relationship could evolve. Even if he’d nudged her in the direction of finding a long-term relationship, maybe he believed it enough to give it a shot? She huffed out a mental breath. She was typically optimistic, but with Grant? He was a wild card.
Okay, so maybe she should stop daydreaming and just enjoy whatever they had for however long it lasted. Because there was a better than fair chance their relationship wouldn’t evolve beyond the friends-who-fuck stage.
“So, how’d you make this?”
Oh, shit. Why hadn’t she been prepared for Grant to ask questions? She shoved a forkful of hot pie in her mouth, then felt her eyes widen. The pie tasted…funny…like a part of it was burned. Which was weird. She’d followed her sister’s instructions carefully. Carly must’ve given her the wrong directions or temperature or something. Or maybe “brown” was lighter than she expected. But how to salvage it now?
“You okay?” He leaned toward her, a concerned frown on his face.
“Hot,” she managed, blowing on her food. Unfortunately, that didn’t work as well when said food was already in her mouth. But at least it saved her from having to answer right away. She reached for her glass of white wine and took a sip. At least the wine was cold, even though it didn’t do much to ease the burn. This was probably cosmic justice at work for lying about making dinner.
He carefully shoved a spoonful in his mouth, chewed, then flashed a frown. “I taste something different about this. Ummm… It’s really good. What’s in it?”
Correction. His question was cosmic justice. She carefully placed her fork down. “It’s…ummm…something Carly recommended I use. Said it added an herby quality to the filling.”
“Herby, huh?” Grant nodded, tilting his head to one side as if considering how to respond. “Which one?”
“Which one?” Oh, shit. Unfortunately, parsley was about the only herb she knew. Basil? That was an herb, too, right? Did basil go in a chicken potpie? “Ummm…it’s a…ummm…secret green herb.”
“I see. Can you at least give me a hint?”
She took a long sip of her wine and tried desperately to come up with something, anything that sounded remotely like it belonged in a chicken potpie. Then she glanced in his direction, saw the corners of his mouth twitch up like he was trying to contain his laughter.
“You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” His eyes twinkled.
“Don’t toy with me, Grant. You know I didn’t make this.”
He chuckled. “It was a pretty easy deduction, really.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your kitchen’s clean.”
“So? Maybe I cleaned it up before you came over.”
“And when I tossed the bottle cap, there wasn’t anything in your garbage to indicate you’d so much as opened a can, let alone cooked chicken.”
“Maybe I threw the trash out before you came over.”
“Why? You usually have me do that when I leave.”
Damn. Damn. Double damn.
“You’re entirely too observant.”
“That’s not a crime.”
The half smile on his face seemed to be contagious, and before long she couldn’t stop her own smile if her life had depended on it.
“Lastly,” he added, his smile morphing into an all-out grin. “Secret green herb? Really? You could’ve at least said parsley or something.”
Damn! She should’ve trusted her gut and gone with parsley.
“Hey, at least I tried.”
His smile faded, replaced by something deeper, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “You did better than try, Stacey. This is amazing. You’re amazing.”
“I burned it.”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him. “It tastes fine to me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Liar.”
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “This is the most amazing experiences anyone has ever given me, Stace. I promise I’m not lying about that.”
> A shock of electricity bolted through her, starting with her chest and moving in tingly waves through her body. There he went with the validation again. Something about this man, this moment, would be forever imprinted on her brain. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she’d bask in it for as long as it was around.
By the time the last of the dinner dishes were put away, Stacey was still running on adrenaline. It was like every part of reality was magnified somehow.
She openly admired his profile while he loaded up the dishwasher. What was it about him that made her feel…incredible? Like she could accomplish anything, could follow whatever path she chose.
How bad was it, really, that they’d stepped beyond the realm of friendship into something deeper? Something even more intimate than the closeness they already shared?
Sure, it might’ve started out awkwardly, but she didn’t feel that way anymore. Now it felt normal, and that was a good thing. It meant that maybe, just maybe, they’d grow their friendship instead of lose it. After all, sex was supposed to deepen intimacy, wasn’t it? She shrugged to herself. At least, she’d remembered reading that on a relationship blog.
“What are you thinking?” Grant asked before he blew out the candles so that the only light came from the corner lamp. “You shrugged,” he added at her raised eyebrow. “Must’ve been something pretty deep.”
Well, if she wanted to grow their relationship, what better time to start than now?
“Oh, it was deep, all right.” She tilted her head to one side and grinned. “I suppose you could say that it’s way deep…”
Desire flashed in his eyes, and that something between them sparked and came to life. She felt the trace of warmth as it circled her, seemingly anchoring itself around her and pulling ever so slightly.
“Come here.”
She raised an eyebrow even as she approached him. He thought he was in command of this part of the night? Not. Even.
Time to get this party going. She slowed her pace, kept it in time to the beat of Lady Gaga blasting out of the speakers, then stopped. Rocking her hips from side to side, she watched the small smile register on his face. With one hand, she reached around to the back of her dress, found the metal tab, and tugged it down.
Grant stood rigid, his gaze intensely focused on her movements. “This is another surprise,” he murmured.
“Why?” She turned her back to him, spread her legs wide, and let the music move her body again. “I like this song.” She peeked over her shoulder and winked.
“I just never figured you for the striptease type.”
“Really?” She pulled the tab lower, doing her best to imitate a woman bent on seducing her man. Although in this case, it was a fair bet she wouldn’t have to work too hard.
“Really.”
Was that a hitch in his voice? Good. The tone empowered her further, spurred her on so that she lowered the zipper to the bottom before dropping her shoulders and slowly letting the material slide down her body.
She caught the dress so it covered her breasts, then spun around to face him.
He was staring, his arms crossed, and his face giving nothing away. That is, unless she counted the way his eyes darkened, the pupils dilated. Or the way he swallowed deeply and looked like every ounce of him was exercising restraint.
And she loved every minute of it.
“You gonna keep going, or just stand there teasing me?” There was an edge to his voice despite his cool, calm, collected exterior. “Or maybe you want me to help?”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head, gyrated her hips and slowly inched the material down. It slid over the tops of her breasts, brushed against her bare nipples, teasing them into hard points. “Mmmm…”
He swallowed, and energy seemed to burst from him. Restrained energy that combined with his dilated pupils and fisted hands. He was coiled tight, and she intended to tighten him up more before granting him release.
She looked pointedly at his crotch, at the way the fabric of his shorts stretched to accommodate him. “I think you’re doing great standing right there. Besides, this is my show.”
The dress slid over her hips, then she finally let go so the soft fabric fell to her feet, leaving her in nothing but a pair of her sexiest panties. She stepped out of them at the same moment Grant unfolded his arms.
He reached her in less than three strides, then pulled her into a rough embrace. She gasped. His mouth crushed down on hers. Passion overrode any semblance of logic that tried to take hold of her brain. How could it with the way his mouth claimed hers, demanded she give as well as take?
It didn’t require much coaxing. She opened her mouth and their tongues danced. And it was a dance, wasn’t it? The way he teased, retreated, came toward hers again and again like a secret code embedded in the rhythm of his movements, in the way he gently nipped and tugged.
His hands roamed over her back, her hips, and then, just as quickly as he started, he broke off the kiss. The movement had barely registered, the protest on her lips quickly replaced with surprise. “Hey.”
Grant effortlessly hauled her over his shoulder. Sure, she was small, but she wasn’t exactly used to being treated like a sack of potatoes, either. “Hey,” she said again. “What are you doing?”
“Painting my toenails.”
The words she’d once hurled at him came back at her now, and just like he’d done at the time, Stacey chuckled. “Maybe you need a few lessons in that department. I’d be glad to help.”
His strides were long and sure, covering the length of her apartment until they were in her bedroom. He lowered her to the floor, her body achingly sliding along his. “Well, well,” she teased, stroking a hand over his hard bulge. “What do we have here?”
He growled, a low, demanding sound that only fueled her blood and made her all the more determined to play the temptress to his caveman. “I’m pretty sure you know what’s waiting for you.”
His words ignited her, made her nipples tight and the bud between her legs throb. “You might have to remind me.” She ran her fingers over his biceps, felt them flex.
Without another word he quickly pulled his shirt over his head. He unbuckled his belt next, pulled the tab of his shorts open, then stopped, his hands at his sides. “Finish it.”
There was something about the command in his voice, about the look on his face, in his eyes, that reached out and tugged at her soul. He’d done a great job following her lead, but this time, he wanted to be in charge. And there was nothing hotter than a sexy man in charge.
She splayed a hand over his hard stomach, then dragged her fingers down until she reached the zipper. Slowly, she pulled the tab down over his hard ridge. “Oh, dear… Looks like it might be stuck.” She released the tab and pressed her hand on his erection. “I might have to hold it in a bit to get the zipper down.”
“Baby doll.” He groaned the words out, half pain, half pleasure.
“What?” She threw him a quick glance. “Am I not allowed to cop a feel? Think of it like a fee for doing your bidding.”
“Oh, I’ll more than pay your fee.” The promise was laced with a layer of thinly veiled lust. “And maybe even have you beg for more.”
“I sure hope so.”
Chapter Fifteen
She was deliberately slowing things down, that much was clear.
Grant held his breath and kept his arms from reaching for Stacey’s waist. It’d be so easy to grab her and tumble into bed with her on top. Sure, restraint was a good thing, but after spending most of the evening with one invisible cord binding his hands to himself, he had to admit it’d felt so damned good just to hold her.
She was inches away, a sexy smile on her face and one hand lightly touching his dick. A part of him wanted to press himself toward her, wanted to insist she hurry, but something was different tonight.
It had been bad enough when she’d first wiggled her cute ass at him, but he had no idea she could do a striptease act that would rival a pole dancer’s moves. Not t
hat he frequented strip clubs, but he’d been to bachelor parties over the years, and none of them had had the impact on him that Stacey’s moves did tonight.
He fought back every male instinct to take control, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help things along, either.
“You planning to tease me all night?”
“May-be,” she murmured softly, a sigh escaping her lips. Her eyes brightened and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She sank to her knees, her gaze on his, and her hand still stroking his dick. “What have we got here?”
When she squeezed, he shuddered, closing his eyes.
Slow. Slow and easy. That’s what he wanted with her tonight.
His senses were acutely tuned to Stacey and the way she stroked his dick before finally, finally pulling the zipper tab all the way down and releasing him.
“Mmmm…impressive…”
“Glad you approve.”
Everything about her tonight ignited a spark in him. Her scent, her smile, the way she teasingly reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs and tugged the material the rest of the way down. His erection jutted out, proud and strong. “And I see you’re ready for some action.”
“With you, I’m always ready.” He breathed the words out, barely hearing himself above the pounding of his heart.
It was true. Every intimate moment he’d spent with her, every kiss, every caress, even her soft snores in the middle of the night touched his heart, touched him deeply. He’d tried to keep those kinds of thoughts at bay, tried to inject some sanity into them, but why bother to deny it? Stacey was even more important to him than he’d first realized.
He reached for her, caressed her face, then slowly guided her up.
Stacey was his past. She was his present. And now that he was man enough to admit it to himself, she was his future, too.
With one soft kiss he knew it was time that he proved it.
…
The kiss was soft, sweet, not the hurried, frenzied kind she’d experienced with him before. Stacey couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something had shifted between them tonight. Something about the mood, about the feel of Grant on her as he slowly, almost reverently brought her body to life, kindled a spark soul deep.
The Best Friend Incident (Driven to Love) Page 12
