“Hot and sour.”
She was an egg roll and hot and sour girl.
Fuck, woman of his dreams.
Definitely falling in love.
“You got beer?” he went on.
“Yes.”
“Whisky?”
Her face fell. “Just Glenlivet but I also have bourbon, Maker’s Mark.”
“Neither suck, baby,” he assured.
Her eyes brightened again.
“Just so you don’t forget,” he began. “You mean more to me today than you did yesterday.”
Her lips parted and her eyes got bright a different way.
“And yesterday you meant a fuckuva lot to me,” he finished.
“Nicky,” she whispered, the bright at the bottoms of her eyes trembling.
He gave her a squeeze. “Get used to that, Liv. I intend to say shit like that a lot and I don’t want you bawlin’ every time I do it.”
Her mouth turned down and the bright in her eyes changed again.
“I’m not bawling.”
“You were close.”
“You were being sweet.”
“Like I said, get used to that.”
“Then you were an ass.”
“You should probably get used to that too.”
She glared
Nick grinned.
She jerked her head to the counter, snapping, “Order, Sebring. I’m hungry.”
“As you wish, baby,” he muttered, reaching into his inside jacket pocket to pull out his phone.
He ordered, not letting her go.
After he was done, he stripped off his jacket and she took him for a tour of her house, which was even more massive than he thought. It was also on the market, something he already knew, with barely any nibbles, something that wasn’t a surprise considering the fact it was listed for over five million dollars.
The place was worth it, but considering a very small percent of the population could afford it, a buyer would take some time.
And by that time, he knew right then, she’d be selling and moving in with him.