to relax I think the sofa is the most logical option.”
She was off-balance around him and it worked in his favor. Made it easy to lead her along the path he’d designed to help her find her bearings with him.
The living room was just off the kitchen. He took her there, directing her to the large, well-stuffed sofa he had custom-made for the space. It was covered in soft leather that always felt warm.
Pierce snagged the white chenille blanket from the arm, shaking it out. “Sit.”
Mona didn’t make a move. She eyed the couch. “We’re going to eat on this?”
“We are.” He held the blanket up. “Sit.”
Her head tipped a little as her eyes slowly came back his way. “Do you always just tell people what to do?”
He froze. “I—”
Mona rounded the glass-topped coffee table instead of walking past him. “I think I’d rather eat in the kitchen.” She took a few steps before doubling back, leaning in and snagging away the blanket. “I will take this though.” She wrapped it around her shoulders as she walked back to the kitchen, leaving him staring after her, a smile working across his lips.
He followed slowly, watching as she worked her way onto one of the backed-stools around the island, the chenille blanket impeding her process. Once she was finally situated, Mona tipped back the rest of her drink.
“Would you care for another?”
She pursed her lips, blue eyes working over the empty glass. “Probably.” She reached across the island, holding the glass his way.
He took his time, letting his fingers drag over hers as he slipped the glass free. This was a dance like none other he’d attempted and it was exhilarating.
Watching her. Knowing what to expect.
Then being wrong.
Mona surprised him at almost every turn. She was the unexpected element his life had been missing for so long.
She was a breath of fresh air in a room that was stuffy and stale.
Pierce went to work on her second drink, the feel of her gaze a comfortable weight that kept him grounded and focused.
“Do you drink a lot?”
“Some.” Pierce repeated the process, building the cocktail in her glass before offering it to her. “You?”
“Not as much as I probably should given the circumstances.” Mona took it and immediately sipped, her full lips pressing against the clear rim in a way he couldn’t ignore.
“And those are?” Pierce pulled two plates from the cabinet.
“Hmm?” Mona’s eyes watched him over the drink, lips parted as the cool liquid flowed between them.
It was more than enough to make him instantly hard.
Which was the exact reason he called Shawn this afternoon. He’d hoped to exhaust his body enough it would struggle to react to her.
Clearly that would not be the case this evening.
“The circumstances.” Pierce turned to the stove, trying to block out the image of Mona with parted lips and wide eyes that fixed to his as she drank.
“Oh.” Mona cleared her throat. “Everything that’s happening here. It’s stressful.”
Pierce filled her plate first. “Do you regret coming here?”
It was a fear he harbored.
That Mona might choose to return to Cincinnati when this was all over. Leave him here, alone with the past he would always have to face.
Steal the air she brought into his suffocating life.
“No.” Her answer was quick and confident. “Will I regret staying here?”
He turned at that.
She huffed out a little laugh. “Ask me in the spring.”
He let out the breath caught in his lungs. “I will remember to do that.” Pierce set her plate on the butcher block and turned back to plate his own dinner.
He hadn’t eaten with another person in years. In spite of the fact that many of the friends from his younger days were around him, there was a distinct line between them. One that formed before they ever met.
In a moment that brought him unbelievable pain.
And unbelievable responsibility.
Every decision he made was his alone to make, and it set up a barrier that couldn’t be crossed.
When Pierce turned back Mona’s plate was untouched. “Are you not hungry?”
“I was waiting for you.” She frowned. “It would be rude to just start eating.”
“It would make me happy if you were so impressed by what was in front of you that waiting to taste it was impossible.”
“I can’t imagine that would ever be impossible.”
“I disagree.” Pierce slid onto the stool across from her, reaching across the space to pass her a fork and knife. “I would imagine there are many times when waiting to taste something seems quite impossible.”
The tint of