Love Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2) - Tessa Bailey Page 0,47
Georgie said, already carving another bite of asado. “This is your signature dish. I think your only problem is going to be convincing people to order anything else.”
“Do I smell food?”
Travis strolled into the kitchen, shirtless, with a baseball bat slung over his shoulder. He looked so indecently male that Rosie had to look up at the ceiling.
“Uh, yeah . . . grab a fork. Let’s get the male perspective.”
“No way. No.” Georgie shook her head. “If he eats this, he’ll be forever unsatisfied with my cooking. Begone, fiancé. Forget what you witnessed this day.”
“Ah, come on, baby girl.” He laid a noisy kiss on her cheek. “No matter what, you’ll always be my favorite meal.”
“Oh, come on.” Bethany shoved her future brother-in-law away. “I’m hanging on to my appetite by a thread here.”
“Let him have one bite,” Rosie cajoled, winking at Travis and cutting him off a slice of meat, preparing him a forkful, and handing it over. When his eyes widened at the taste and he staggered back a step, Rosie knew he was playing up his reaction and didn’t mind in the slightest. “What do you think?”
“I think I’ll have no problem convincing some of the Bombers players to make the trek to Long Island on opening night.” He nodded at Rosie and set the fork down. “Once people taste your food, you won’t need the extra help. But it won’t hurt having a little star power on opening night, whenever you get to that point.”
“Wow.” Rosie searched for the right words and couldn’t find them around the obstruction in her throat. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
Hand on her throat, Georgie gave Travis a serious look over her shoulder. “You should be scared of how hard you’re going to get laid tonight.”
His laughter trailed behind him as he left the kitchen.
Bethany went to the fridge and took out three bottled beers, uncapping the brews and handing them out before falling back into her seat. “Totally unrelated to my little sister getting more action than a twenty-one-year-old on spring break in Cancun, I’m getting to the point where porn and my vibrator are losing their luster and I’m beginning to desire male company again.” She took a brisk sip of her beer. “And, God, that’s annoying.”
Rosie drained half of her beer. “Amen to that.”
Georgie visibly battled her smugness. “Sounds like things are . . . interesting . . . in the reconciliation department.”
“You could say that.” Rosie twisted her bottle on the table. “He’s trying. Like, really, honestly trying to communicate better and that makes me hopeful. I’m hopeful. That’s way more than I had two weeks ago. I think we might have a chance.”
Bethany reached across the table and squeezed her wrist. “That’s fantastic.”
“Yeah. It is.” Rosie wet her lips. “I can’t help but feel like he’s holding so much of himself back, though. I have this unsettled feeling in my belly sometimes, like I’m missing the bigger picture. The situation can’t fix itself overnight, no matter how much I would like it to, you know? I have to keep reminding myself of that.” She looked into the empathetic faces of her friends and decided to keep her paranoia to herself for now—the nitty-gritty was between her and Dominic. They’d pick it apart tomorrow in therapy. She’d just nailed down her signature dish and she wanted to enjoy that fact a little longer, so she searched for a way to lighten the mood without avoiding the topic of her husband completely. “Meanwhile, when Dominic and I are together, I can’t go ten seconds without wanting to . . . to . . .”
Georgie waggled her eyebrows. “To what?”
“Yes, I need some specific imagery.” Bethany clapped. “I’ve literally reached the end of internet porn. Spoiler, the only prize you win is shame.”
“Fine.” Rosie covered her face and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I want him to tie my hands behind my back while I . . . um . . . ride his face and tongue? You know that move?”
Bethany and Georgie stared at her in stunned silence, before Bethany drained her beer and rose to her feet. “Looks like I’m going back to the beginning of porn.” She pushed out through the kitchen door. “I’ll try and recover by the time Georgie’s wedding rolls around.”
In the wake of her sister’s exit, Georgie shifted in her seat.
Rosie pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. “Go find your fiancé. I’ll put this in Tupperware and