was thinking something of an entirely different nature, but my idea can wait.”
“Nope.” He pulled her close, breath warm on her neck. “Tell me.”
She was almost reluctant to lose the moment. Except she suspected she wouldn’t. “I think it would be nice if you bought me breakfast.”
“I already told you.” His words vibrated against her skin. “I don’t get room service. It’s a condo, not a hotel.”
She smiled at the hint of hesitation in his tease. “I know. But at some point you mentioned a diner. And I love French toast.”
“Yeah?”
She rolled onto her back so she could look up at him. “Yup.”
“You’d suffer the public humiliation of going out in my clothes, with scruffy me, for free breakfast?” A smile danced behind his eyes, destroying his otherwise serious expression.
“I’d suffer the possibility of bad French toast to let the world know what an amazing man I’m dating.”
“Are we?” He studied her.
“Dating? Gawd I hope so.” She lifted her head long enough to press her lips to his before flopping back again. “I’m entirely too smitten to settle for anything less.”
“Plus I’m amazing in bed.” He brushed the outside of her ear with his fingers.
Her laugh faded to a happy sigh as she sank into the gesture. “Plus that.”
He rested a hand on her stomach. “Okay, breakfast on one condition.”
She tried to give him a look of disbelief, but she knew her smile was ruining it. “Which is?”
He sat and took her hands in his. “Move in with me.”
Her laugh was cut short when she realized he was serious. She sat also, not sure how she felt about the idea. “I … but … you can’t just ask something like that out of the blue.”
He shrugged. “Why not? Let Riley take over your place or something. It’ll make things easier until you get work straightened out.”
For some reason his logic dug at her insecurities. This wasn’t because he felt guilty about her job was it? “Is that the only reason you’re offering?”
He faltered, pink creeping over his face, and he turned away. His “No” was so soft she wasn’t sure she heard it.
His shoulders rose and fell, and he met her gaze again. “I want you here. I adore you, I need you, I don’t want to send you home at night, and I love you.”
Those last three words caught her off guard, and she slid into a defensive response. “You don’t know me.” The hurt on his face told her that hadn’t been the best approach. She kept talking, hoping to make him understand. “I don’t know you. It’s only been a couple months.”
He raised an eyebrow. “With the size of that file your agency has on me, you know more about me than my mother.”
Why was she fighting this? Part of her was screaming at her to say yes, but she couldn’t force the words out. “But not more about you than your friends. Not more than Zach or Rae.”
“Bullshit.” He scooted closer, resting his hands on her knees. “I mean, okay sure, there’s probably little things you know that they don’t and vice versa. Rae doesn’t know about the mole on my ass.”
Kenzie laughed, part of her hating that the rest of her relaxed at that comment. “But Zach does?”
“Maybe.” He traced a finger over her bottom lip.
She wanted to close her eyes and lean into the gesture, but she wouldn’t be distracted. “They know when you lost your virginity.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “They think they know. They don’t.”
Her curiosity was piqued. “Do tell.”
He ducked his head again, but only for a moment before looking her in the eye. “Zach will tell you it was when I was fifteen. Some party at my parents’ house while they were out of town. He set me up, I was too nervous and told her no, and she had already bragged to her friends and didn’t want to take it back. So I let people believe it too.”
She had to know. “Tell me it wasn’t Rae.”
He shook his head, face twisted in a smirk. “No, we don’t have that kind of relationship. It happened when I was twenty-one.”
“Bullshit.” She mimicked his earlier objection. “You were gorgeous and popular in high school. There’s no way women weren’t throwing themselves at you.”
He shrugged. “To be fair, I wasn’t inexperienced by that point. ‘Losing my virginity’ is a technicality. Besides, I was miserable as a teenager, uncomfortable with who I was pretending to be, and frequently drunk.”
The story was captivating. She had to