In A Fix - Mary Calmes Page 0,58
sweetie. Croy did,” she said, baiting him. “And I’m not cooking, he is.”
His gaze shifted to me. “You cook?”
I grinned at him. “Only a little bit.”
Full whimper then.
“Would you like an omelet?”
He nodded.
“You want meat in it, or egg whites and avocados, like your sister?”
“Meat, please.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling at him. He looked really good in only a towel. It hugged his beautiful round ass, and I had a hard time turning away from him.
“You made coffee too?”
I grinned at him, and he crossed the floor, walking right up in front of me and putting his hands on my hips.
“Did you know when you smile, your whole face lights up?”
No, I did not know, because that was not my default. I glanced over his shoulder at his mother and sister, both leaning forward, chins resting on their hands, elbows on the counter, smiling, and then returned my gaze to his. “I don’t normally do that.”
“What? Smile?”
Quick nod from me.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” he said gruffly, leaning in. “You should smile all the time.”
I shouldn’t have kissed him there, in front of his family, because it would send the wrong signal, but he expected the closeness, the caring, the intimacy with his lover, and I would not disappoint him. In fact, the man brought out every protective instinct in me. Not to mention that there were marks on him that I’d put there with my teeth, and stubble burn because I hadn’t shaved before we wound up in bed, and some lovely hickeys on his abdomen. I was more restrained than that most of the time, took what I wanted and left. But Dallas aroused the need in me to let others know that he was claimed. Even as I brushed my mouth over his, I found it impossible not to press my hand to the small of his back and pull him close to me.
If we were alone, I would have dropped to my knees right there and worked fingers into his ass as I blew him, but since we had an audience, I let him go and told him to change so he could eat.
His eyes drifted open, and he turned and walked away from me, back toward the hall. His sister and mother watched him until he went around the corner and then swiveled back to face me. I took an involuntary step back because they both looked a bit predatory all of a sudden.
“Where do you live?” Jackie asked me, her tone not quite sharp, but not as friendly as it had been moments before.
“In Chicago,” I answered hesitantly, cracking eggs for Dallas’s omelet.
“And what’s there?”
“Pardon me?”
“In Chicago,” she clarified. “What is in Chicago?”
Ah. “I work for a––”
“No,” she snapped, taking a sip of her tea and then looking back at me, pinning me with her gaze. Clearly, she was waiting.
“No?”
“I want to know what, outside of a job, keeps you in Chicago.”
I had to think.
It was subtle. Her eyebrows lifted first, then her head tipped just a bit, and then came the smile that a cat probably wore once it knew the canary had nowhere to run. “No family?”
“No, ma’am.”
She almost purred. “You have a lot of friends there?”
I shrugged. “I have a few but––”
“So it’s really just you,” she said, laser focused on me. “You’re all alone.”
“No, I’m not alone, I just––”
“I want to reiterate about dinner,” she told me. “I want you both there.”
“That’s very gracious of you,” I said softly, watching as Dallas came back into the room in low-slung jeans that had seen better days, faded and threadbare, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He was barefoot, and when he reached the island, he took the seat on the other side of his sister, not next to his mother.
“You borrowed a sweater, I see,” Dallas said, hands folded in front of him, smiling at me.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. You wear whatever you like. You look good in my clothes.”
I grinned at him. “What do you take in your coffee?”
“Just milk.”
Since I had purchased half-and-half at the store, I put the carton down in front of him with the mug of coffee and a spoon.
“This is amazing,” he told me after taking a sip.
“It’s Croy’s special blend,” Cate announced to her brother.
“I’m glad you like it.”
His eyes never left me.
“Darling.”
Dallas leaned forward so he could turn his head and see his mother as I focused on making his omelet.
“I was telling Croy that I’m having a dinner party tonight. If you’re