On top of all that, her hair was down and looking just-rode-mydick messy.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I pulled in breath through my nose and fought off punching a hole through my shorts.
“She doesn’t know,” I said quietly to Jamie before moving out from behind the counter and standing next to it to see her better.
“Got it,” he mumbled as he continued texting.
Jamie would keep the house shit between us. He had my back and knew this was important.
Syd would find out when I was ready.
“Wow. Look at this place,” she said with wonder in her voice as she moved farther into the shop, head tipped back and eyes scanning the room. “It’s awesome in here! So bright and beachy. If I knew anything about surfing, I would probably buy one of everything.” She turned her head to look at me all sweet. “No matter. I’m planning on buying one of everything anyway. I gotta support my boy.”
Her boy.
Christ.
I laughed and shook my head.
“Come here,” I ordered.
My hands were itching to touch her.
She took off running straight at me, dodging a rack of shirts, got within arms’ reach, then leapt into the air with a squeal, gripping on to my shoulders as I took her waist and lifted, my hands moving to her ass and holding there as her legs wrapped around my hips and linked at the ankles, squeezing tight.
“Hey, Trouble,” she whispered, running her nose along mine and then rubbing them together.
“Wild.” I kissed the corner of her mouth. “Thought you were stopping by after lunch?”
She pressed her chest out, held on to my neck, and leaned back to look at me.
“I was going to but I couldn’t stand it any longer. I’ve been twiddling my thumbs waiting to come see you and there’s only so much Food Network I can watch before I start eating everything in the house,” she admitted. “I had to get out of there while I could still fit into my shorts.”
I squeezed her ass.
“Like these shorts, babe.”
Her lips curved up.
“Why the hell were you watching Food Network?” I asked.
Shyness dipped her head.
“Because I was hoping to get a new recipe to try out tonight when I make you dinner.”
My brows lifted.
“You’re making me dinner?”
“Yep. At Tori’s house.”
“And it’s something you’ve never made before?”
“Yep.”
I slid my grip farther around her so she was pressing closer and I was holding tighter.
There was a chance she’d try and push away after I finished getting my point across. I was eliminating that chance.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked carefully. “Straying from the four things you know how to cook? I’m good with pizza again.”
Her face tightened in annoyance as she lifted her chin.
“I know how to read a recipe, Brian,” she returned.
“Pretty sure you don’t, babe.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t read a recipe. You told me the story of how you almost burned your house down trying to make cavatini,” I reminded her, thinking back to that night. “Said you set the oven temperature wrong, forgot to cook the noodles before you baked them, and after tasting it, realized you’d put in too much garlic, thinking one clove meant the entire head.”
Her eyes lowered to my neck.
“It wasn’t that serious. I pulled the dish out before it burnt up completely. Also, I was fine with that measuring mistake. I just so happen to like a lot of garlic.”
“You put in eleven cloves of garlic in a recipe that called for one. No one likes garlic that much.”
Not sure how it was possible but her face tightened more, gaze threatening as it squared off with mine again, and this time, her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and her lips were curling against her teeth.
“Know you’re trying to look mad, Wild, but you just look cute as hell,” I informed her.
“God, you two are precious,” Jamie commented from where he was standing. “If I stick around and hear any more of this shit, I might get my period.”
Syd shot daggers at Jamie, then narrowed her eyes on me and ducked to get closer.
“That’s exactly the look I was going for, thank you very much,” she clipped. “And I’d appreciate it if you would see my look as intimidating and allow me to do this for you, because I really want to. It’s important to me.”
I heard the subtle change in her voice, the way her tongue lost that edge and her speech grew softer and withdrawn.
It wasn’t just important to her. It meant a whole fucking lot.
“You really wanna cook something for me you’ve never made?” I asked, dipping my head. “’Cause you don’t need to. I don’t mind cooking for us or eating the same four meals you know how to make for the next fifty years. Your pizza was damn good and I’m guessing I’m gonna like the other three things. Really don’t want you stressing over this.”
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.
“Wild,” I urged.
“I won’t stress. I promise.”
I lifted my shoulders. “Right,” I conceded. “Can’t fucking wait to try it then.”
She wiggled her hips excitedly with a little dance. Then her phone started ringing in her back pocket, and she reached back to grab it while telling me, “It’ll be perfect. You’ll see. What I got planned is gonna blow your mind, Brian. You’re never gonna want to get rid of me.”