of some pretty colorful criticism from women, but never when it came to his romantic prowess. And there he was pulling out all the stops—a little wine, top shelf banter, and his guaranteed-to-have-her-wanting-more pepper-crusted steak with pomegranate chutney that had a near-perfect proven success rate, and she was laughing at his game.
“Laugh all you want, Goldilocks. But I promise you that one night in my bed, with me, and you’ll be changing your tune.” He placed his hand a little lower on her back than was polite as he guided her to the island. With a wink, he gave the bar stool a pat.
She looked at it, and him, skeptically. And okay, maybe he did lean down to smell her hair as he pulled the stool closer. And in the process, he may have caught a hint of her scent, the same jasmine with a hint of amber that was all over his sheets.
Oh yeah, when Goldilocks left for work, Emmitt had crawled into his bed and crashed. Even with fresh sheets he couldn’t escape the sexy scent of Annie. It fueled a few thoughts about how she looked in that soft gray pajama set, which was nothing more than drawstring shorts and a top with skinny straps, but on her, man oh man, it was hot as hell. He sank into the mattress, buried beneath all dozen of her pillows and instantly he was dead to the world for a solid six hours with her smell to keep him company.
It was the best sleep he’d had in recent memory. There was something soothing about all the candles and little knickknacks she had lying around. There was also something soothing about seeing her in his kitchen.
Annie sent him a sidelong glance. “I will take that glass of wine, but whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work. We both know I have the right to stay here, and you’re morally obligated to find alternate housing. You’re just trying to charm me into giving up the bed, and I paid for that bed. It’s mine.”
“You should have some guy charming you every day of the year, Anh. But tonight I don’t want to talk about the housing situation. I just want to talk,” he said. “To you.”
Emmitt watched the way her lashes lowered to rest on her cheeks when she disappeared behind her shyness. He decided then and there, before this thing between them ended, she’d never feel shy around him again.
But since this was in the beginning stages, and she was closing up on him, he needed to lighten the mood. “I’m more of a ring on my finger before shacking up kind of guy.”
“Turns out, I’m allergic to rings.” She wiggled her fourth finger and they both laughed.
“How about we agree not to talk about our housing problem tonight,” he said, then slid around to the other side, filling up his glass with water. “To a shitty day.”
She paused for a moment, as though trying to figure out if there was a catch. There wasn’t, but he didn’t need to tell her that.
Emmitt had offered to cook her dinner to throw her off-balance, but one look at her in that frayed denim skirt and scoop neck tank and his brain had been scrambled. She must have changed from her scrubs into this piece of art before she arrived at the market.
His good fortune.
She had a smoking body and amazing legs, he decided when she kicked off her Converse and hopped up on the stool. Two powerful weapons he’d have to be diligently aware of.
Then she smiled and, holy shit, all the tension he’d been carrying since he landed stateside vanished.
“To a shitty day,” she agreed and even toasted.
Before she charmed him beyond reason, Emmitt went to work making a stellar spinach and arugula salad while Annie eyed him tentatively over her wineglass.
“How did you leave it with your daughter today?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. There was yelling, there was hugging, there were tears, there was avoidance, there were so many emotions. All the emotions all at once, it was terrifying.”
“My dad says my teenage years are to blame for his premature graying. And I was a pretty easy kid,” she said. Emmitt must have had a look of abject horror on his face, because Annie reached over and patted his hand. “You’ll survive.”
“Yesterday, I would have agreed with you. Today?” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I don’t know. She’s blowing me off to have dinner with one of her