Page 29 of Truck Me
Lord have mercy, he has a clearly defined Adonis belt. That sexy V-shaped muscle that I’ve always dreamed of touching on a man but have yet to meet one that actually has it.
Thank God both my hands are occupied holding the pan of lasagna, or else I’d probably be fondling his abs right about now.
I’m sure that would go over really well, considering how much he seems to dislike me.
When I look up and meet his gaze, my shoulders sag. The scowl on his face confirms his feelings toward me haven’t changed. I’m oddly disappointed by that fact.
“Why are you here?” The question is accusatory, but there’s a hint of something else in his tone that I’ve not heard before.
I smile brightly and hold up the pan. “Brought you more food.”
His brow furrows. “Why?”
“Because you liked my cookies.”
He places his hands on either side of the door frame. If there were a wall behind me, I’d be caged in. “So, you thought you’d bring me more food?”
I square my shoulders, refusing to let his grumpy demeanor intimidate me. “Yes. It makes me happy when people like my cooking. I like feeding people. Is that okay?”
He stares at me and his nostrils flare, but I’m not convinced it’s because he’s angry I’m here. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that suggests he’s amused, or pleased, or God forbid, turned on.
When he doesn’t say anything, I ask. “Are you going to invite me in? It’s cold out here. If I stand outside any longer, this lasagna is going to be frozen solid.”
His eyes drop to the pan. “You made lasagna?”
I lift it up with a smile, but before I can say anything else, he takes it and spins around. He only has to take a couple of steps before he’s at his kitchen counter, or what he has of a counter, and is popping the lid off the pan.
“You made garlic bread too?” he asks, his words laced with awe.
I take this opportunity to step inside and shut the door behind me. I’m immediately engulfed in a blanket of warmth. His tiny house is quite cozy and warm. I pull my gloves off, unwrap my scarf, and unzip my coat.
His house looks bigger on the inside than it does from the outside. There’s a large open room just inside the door with a single plush chair and an end table. Beside it is a bookcase overstuffed with books.
Garret is a reader. I didn’t see that coming.
Beyond that is a two-seater table next to a small galley kitchen. He has a full-sized refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher, with the only counter space being above the dishwasher. His only cabinets are the four above the appliances.
There’s a narrow hallway leading toward the back that makes me question how Garret’s broad shoulders fit through. It’s too narrow for me to tell what’s back there.
Above it is a loft with stairs to one side for access. All I can see up there is a hint of his bed. Unlike what I’ve seen in other tiny houses, his ceiling looks high enough that he can stand upright.
Despite my desire to walk around and get a better look at his house, I stay by the door. He hasn’t invited me in yet.
“I did,” I say, finally responding to his question about the garlic bread.
He glances over his shoulder, and I think I see a hint of a smile. It’s not much, but swear to God, my ovaries flip at the sight. This man’s looks are dangerous to my libido.
He wastes no time grabbing a plate and cutting himself a piece. He doesn’t even bother warming it up. He just digs in like it’s the first meal he’s had in days.
Then his eyes fall shut, and his head tilts back slightly on the sexiest deep groan I’ve ever heard. Forget my ovaries. My entire body is tingling with need—need to press my chest against his and feel the vibration of that rumble run through me.
“Fuck, Princess. This is so good.” His voice is gravelly and rough, and the way he says princess has me clenching my thighs together. It’s confusing because I hate being called princess.
I stuff my hands in my coat pockets because I have no idea what else to do with them. I want to touch him. Feel how solid and hard his body is.
Needing to take my mind off these dirty thoughts, I say, “You should try it warmed up.”
“Later,” he says as he shovels more into his mouth.