9. Delilah #2
Getting involved with the hospitality host wasn’t a good idea.
I’d only be in town for a month. And I wasn’t about to throw myself into a no-strings-attached fling.
I’d be better off bottling up all that heat and saving it for when I got back to Dallas and got settled.
Then I’d have plenty of time to find someone who checked off all my boxes.
I gave Buster a final scratch on his stomach, then rolled out of bed. The day had already gotten away from me. I had places to go and people to see. Not to mention an attraction to squelch.
Jasper
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I entered my place again.
When I left, Delilah had been curled up in my bed, snuggling with my dog.
It didn’t surprise me that Buster had taken to her right away.
As far as I could tell, Delilah had spent her whole life winning people over.
It was literally her job. I’d best remember that and not try to find any deeper meaning in that kiss she laid on me last night.
I wasn’t about to get used by another gorgeous woman with an ulterior motive.
For a half a second, I thought of Adeline.
She couldn’t have been responsible for the crickets in Delilah’s trailer, could she?
I knew from experience that Adeline wouldn’t let anything stop her from getting what she wanted.
And she wanted the title of most romantic small town in Texas.
But sabotaging the judge’s trailer wouldn’t win her any points.
Besides, Adeline didn’t do bugs. Someone else had to be behind it.
Whoever it was, they’d better stop at a relatively harmless prank.
Keeping Delilah safe fell under my umbrella of responsibility.
For better or for worse, she was in my care, and I’d make damn sure no harm came to her under my watch.
“I’m back,” I called out as I opened the front door.
The last thing I needed was to surprise her and find her walking around naked.
Seeing her in that flimsy, see-through nightie had already ensured I’d never be able to look at her the same again.
Not now that I had a pretty good idea of the curves underneath those fancy skirts and dresses she seemed to favor.
“In the kitchen,” Delilah answered.
Buster bounded over to greet me. “Hey, boy. Have you been good for Delilah?”
She stood in the doorway that led from the living room into the kitchen, a spatula in her hand. “He’s been fabulous. I wish he could talk though. Would have saved me some time trying to figure out where you keep everything.”
“Are you cooking?” So that’s what I smelled. I’d noticed it when I came in the door but figured she’d sprayed some sort of perfume or air freshener.
“Pancakes. Would have cut up some fruit to go along with it, but your refrigerator is empty.” She turned to head back into the kitchen. “Time to flip. You want any?”
I glanced down at Buster. “What’s going on?”
The dog didn’t answer, just cocked his head one way and then the next.
“I couldn’t find any maple syrup so you can have peanut butter or honey on top.” With her back to me, she stood at the stovetop and worked the spatula in her hand.
“You didn’t have to do this.” I leaned against the counter, enjoying the way her hips moved as she flipped flapjacks.
“I know you said we could go out but look at me.” She turned, pointing to her clothes. “I hope you don’t mind I borrowed a shirt and some shorts.”
I hadn’t even noticed when I walked in, but she was wearing one of my college T-shirts and a pair of my athletic shorts. “Where are the clothes I grabbed for you?”
Her face flushed before she twirled back around to face the stove. “I’m not sure it would be appropriate for me to go out in public in any of them. Seems you were in a hurry and only grabbed things from my lingerie drawers.”
Shit. I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. The image of Delilah’s lacy underthings had been seared on my brain. And now she knew I’d had my hands in her drawers. Dammit. Her dresser drawers. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I figured breakfast was the least I could do to thank you for your late-night rescue.” She opened the cabinet next to the stove. “Where do you keep your plates?”
I moved to her other side and pulled two plates from the cabinet. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She piled a tall stack of pancakes onto a plate and handed it to me, then flipped one onto her plate before walking over to the table.
“Is that all you’re having?”
She rubbed a hand over her stomach. “I ate way too much last night at that restaurant.”
“Yeah, Ortega’s does an amazing job.” I pulled up a chair next to hers. “There’s another place over past Swynton that has the best cheese enchiladas. I’ll have to take you there while you’re in town.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” Before I drove myself crazy trying to figure out if I’d just asked her out on a date or if she’d accepted as a friend, I slid the first bite of pancake into my mouth. Delicious. “This is great.”
“It would be better if you had a stocked pantry. Don’t you ever eat at home?”
“Not often. I usually grab dinner up at the house or stop and pick something up. Do you like to cook?”
She cut off a small bite with the side of her fork. “I love it. But I haven’t had very many opportunities lately.”
“That trailer doesn’t have much of a kitchen.”
Nodding, she slipped the bite into her mouth, and for a moment I focused on those soft, full lips.
“Well, you’re welcome to cook in my kitchen whenever you want.” I shrugged. “I’ll even stock the pantry if you tell me what you need.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Careful what you offer. I might just take you up on that.”
“I hope you do.”
A look passed between us that made my pulse tick up. A hint of heat sparked in her eyes, making me want to pull her into my lap and pick up where we’d left off the night before. I forced myself to shut it down.
“You’re on. I figure I owe you something for taking care of the cricket problem. If you’re serious about letting me use your kitchen, I’d love to make you dinner one night this week.”
My stomach rolled as I thought about Delilah moving around my kitchen with the same kind of ease she’d shown this morning. So much for keeping my distance. I could do it, though. She might look like a goddess, but I could keep myself under control.
“That sounds great. Now what do you want to do about your wardrobe?”
“You don’t think I should go out in public like this?” She laughed as she looked down at my Gig ’Em shirt.
“I think you look great.” I wasn’t lying about that.
Her hair was piled on top of her head, still damp from her shower.
She didn’t have a trace of makeup on her flawless skin, and if I’d run into her in public, I never would have guessed she was the reigning Miss Lovin’ Texas. “You should wear makeup less often.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.” Her fork stabbed another bite. “Are you trying to say I look bad with makeup on?”
Now I’d stepped in it. “No, you look just fine with makeup.”
“I must not do a good job with it though if you think I look better without it.”