Chapter 15 #2
Letting out a sigh, she said, “She mentioned that she really liked the color I gave her and is now hoping to get on my monthly schedule. She lives up in Vancouver and has to figure out how to break up with her current stylist first, so who knows.”
“That’s quite the trek for a haircut,” he murmured, pulling out of the parking spot. “And couldn’t she just not make another appointment with her current person?”
Freya chuckled. “Oh no. When you’ve been with your stylist for a while, you can’t just start seeing someone else. There’s a breakup process.”
He glanced her way. “Seriously?”
“It’s a thing.” She shrugged. “And the distance isn’t a problem for this woman. She gets to and from the resort in a private helicopter.”
“Ah, I assume that’s part of the high-maintenance bit?”
“You assume correctly.” She grinned at him. “So what do you have in mind for dinner?”
A sudden onslaught of nerves had his hands tightening on the steering wheel. He was usually calm and even-keeled, but this beautiful woman had him off-kilter. “Do you like chicken parmesan?”
Holy shit. If he could slap himself upside the head, he would. He really should have checked with her before he’d gone grocery shopping. What if she hated it? What if she had food allergies? What if—
“Uh, who doesn’t?”
Relief washed over him.
“Seriously, Xan, I’m not picky, so whatever you have planned will be great.” She quickly squeezed his arm before letting go.
He missed her touch.
Fuck.
He didn’t want to think too hard about that wayward thought.
Thankfully, his turn was coming up. He pulled into his private road and gestured toward his house and the neighboring houses farther down the road.
“This is all technically company housing. When Gavin Frazier started Hudson Security—which we passed back down the main road by De La Rosa Gym—he bought eight acres out here and built five houses. My place and the next three all have the same floor plan. The biggest one at the end is Frazier’s house.
Our head of cybersecurity used to live in the place next to his, but they ended up getting together, and she just moved in with him.
The two houses in the middle are used by various staff who don’t live on the island.
Tash and Esme tend to use them the most.”
“Oh, they don’t live on Hudson Island?”
Xander shook his head. “No, they both have places in Seattle, but they’re here at least a couple times a month.”
He pulled into the garage and cut the engine. The swarm of nerves were back—hell, they’d never really left—and he cleared his throat. “Um, it’s not the biggest place or anything,” he began as they got out of the SUV, “but it’s comfortable.”
It was comfortable, but it sure as hell wasn’t fancy. Furniture-wise, he had the basics. His decor was lacking, as Tash was always happy to point out. He didn’t know the first thing about decorating and had never really cared. Until this very damn moment . . .
What if she thought his place was a shitty bachelor pad? What if cooking dinner for her was a horrible idea?
Freya chuckled. She met him at the front of the SUV and looped her arm with his. “Xander, I’m sure your place is great. I live in an apartment the size of a shoebox. I’m not gonna judge. Trust me.”
Too late to back out now.
He let out a breath and nodded. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered, shooting her a wink.
The man was ridiculous. So stinking cute, but ridiculous nonetheless. Who would have thought the tall, muscular man who sported a deliciously hot man bun and basically screamed alpha with every fiber of his being would be nervous to show her his home?
She wasn’t going to lie. That little crack in his macho armor was endearing. Sweet. And sexy as hell.
Focusing back on the tour, she followed Xander down a hall and glanced around.
His house was really nice. Sure, it wasn’t gigantic, but it was big enough.
The comfortable space had two bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms with a living room and kitchen combo that was open and airy.
There were a ton of windows and high ceilings, so it didn’t feel cramped.
At the far end of the great room was the most gigantic television Freya had ever seen mounted on the wall—and she had four brothers, so that said a lot.
The dark-brown leather furniture was equally gigantic and plush looking. Granted, the walls were bare, but with so many windows, it wasn’t noticeable. There also wasn’t a knickknack in sight. However, Xander didn’t strike her as a knickknack type of guy.
“And that’s the place,” he said, leading her back into the kitchen. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and gave her a sheepish smile.
She probably shouldn’t find his uncertain smile so attractive, but she did. “Your house is great. Pretty sure my entire apartment can fit in there.” She gestured to the living area. “Now what can I do to help with dinner?”
He pressed some buttons on his oven, turned to the fridge, and began pulling food out and placing everything on the island.
“It pretty much makes itself. Can I get you something to drink? Beer, wine, soda . . .” He looked in the fridge and bent to dig deeper.
“I think I have some juice hiding somewhere.”
“Oh, a glass of ice water is fine.” Though not as fine as the denim-clad ass she was currently checking out. Pressing her lips together, she averted her gaze when he straightened and turned back to her with a bottle of beer in his hand.
He placed it on the counter and pulled a glass from the cabinet. After filling the glass with ice and water from the dispenser in the fridge door, he placed it in front of her and grabbed the bottle of beer. “Do you mind?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. As you know, I’m not opposed to alcohol, but if I have a drink tonight, I’ll probably end up falling asleep on you.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” A sexy smile played at the edges of his lips before he took a swig of his beer. “I have plans for you.”
She eyed him up and down, taking her time.
“Do you now?” Her heart galloped in her chest. Uh, who was this flirty woman?
It couldn’t actually be her, could it? But the heat in his gaze made her bold, made her confident that he wouldn’t turn her away.
Rounding the island, she moved to stand in front of him.
His hands settled on her hips. “Yes, ma’am, I sure do.”
“Well.” She placed her palms against his solid chest. The racing beat of his heart had her insides melting a little more for him.
“In case I forget to say it later, Xander Bonetti, thank you for inviting me over for dinner tonight. I had a really great time.” She fisted her hands in his shirt and tugged.
As Xander lowered his head, she rose onto her tiptoes and met him halfway.
His lips were soft against hers, but everything intensified after a heartbeat.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she eagerly opened for him.
He deepened their kiss, pulling her flush against him.
He tasted of beer and something uniquely him. She wanted more.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she moaned when she felt the hard press of him against her belly. She delved her fingers into his hair, and satisfaction tore through her when he growled.
Then another growl sounded. Loudly. A growl that had them stilling.
It sounded again, and she cringed.
Her stomach.
“Oh my God,” she murmured, dropping her forehead to Xander’s chest.
She felt the rumble of his laughter. “I take it that’s my cue to get dinner started?”
Glancing up at him, she grinned and marveled that his arms were still around her, that whatever this was, it wasn’t awkward, and she probably could stay like this with him all day. “I didn’t get to finish my lunch.”
He arched an eyebrow in question.
“I was halfway through my smoothie—”
“A smoothie isn’t lunch, Frey.”
She rolled her eyes. “It was a really big smoothie.” His eyebrow arched higher, and she chuckled. “Trust me, the resort does smoothies right. But anyway, Angelica—Mrs. High-Maintenance—showed up early and didn’t want to wait, so I never got around to finishing my lunch.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing this chicken parm recipe is quick.” He tipped her chin up with his finger and kissed her. A soft, swoony kiss that made the butterflies in her stomach dance. “To be continued.”
“Yes, please,” she whispered against his lips.
He growled again, deep in his throat, as he stepped away. “Why don’t you grate the parm?” He pushed a plate with a wrapped hunk of parmesan on it toward her. “There’s a microplane grater in the drawer behind you.”
As he stepped away and turned his back to her, she fanned herself. Cheese. Right. Grate cheese. Not jump the man. At least not until after dinner . . .
Smiling to herself, she grabbed the fancy grater and unwrapped the cheese.
For a moment, she simply watched him. When he said he’d make her dinner, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.
She’d expected stilted conversation with a dose of awkward.
Not that any of the time they’d spent together had been like that, but because .
. . Well, that’s how things tended to end up with her.
Things started out good but then devolved.
But Xander? He was unlike anyone she’d ever met before.
The more time she spent with him, the more she was appreciating it, appreciating him.
Watching him move around the kitchen calmed her.
For such a large man, he moved with ease and grace.
For as long as she could remember, her brothers had teased her, saying that they always knew where she was because she walked like a stomping elephant.
Even though she was barely over five-two, they weren’t wrong.
Delicate walking had never been her thing.