“I could have taken you shopping,” Flynn said.
She waved her hand. “I didn’t need you to take me shopping.”
“And what’s this?” Flynn asked, motioning to the pan.
“I’m soaking cedar in apple cider.”
“I could have done that for you as well. Did you buy the roasting pan?”
“I did.”
“I have roasting pans here.”
She lifted her chin. “I have my own methods, and I didn’t mind buying the pan. And if you’re worried about reimbursing me for the pan, don’t bother.”
“Did I say I was worried about reimbursing you? And of course I intend to pay for everything. I’m the one who invited you here to cook.”
She waved her hand at him. “Whatever.” She turned and smiled at Harmony and Barrett. “Hi. I’m Amelia Lawrence.”
Harmony held out her hand. “Harmony Evans.”
“I’m Flynn’s brother Barrett. Nice to meet you, Amelia.”
“We’re so thrilled to have you here tonight to cook for us,” Harmony said, setting her glass of tea on the counter. “I was just about to refill my iced tea. Would you like a glass?”
“I’d love one, Harmony. Thank you.”
She fixed the glasses of tea then handed one off to Amelia, who had already tied her hair back, put on an apron, and was busy opening all of Flynn’s cabinets and pulling out pots, pans, mixers, and generally taking over his kitchen. Flynn, in the meantime, had grabbed another beer and a stool at the kitchen island.
“I think we’ll get out of their way,” Harmony said.
Barrett just shrugged and followed her into the living room.
“Wasn’t that interesting?” she asked as she and Barrett took their seats on the sofa.
“What?”
“The sparks between your brother and Amelia.”
“Really?” Barrett looked into the kitchen, where Amelia was whipping something with a whisk. “I thought it was more like her being snippy, and him being a dick.”
She laughed. “That’s what I mean. Sparks. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her. The chemistry between them is intense.”
“You think so, huh?”
“I definitely think so.”
“I guess you’d know about all the chemistry stuff.”
She shifted her focus away from what was going on in the kitchen and onto Barrett. “Excuse me? What does that mean?”
He picked up a piece of her hair and played with it. “It means, woman, that you have loads of chemistry. It’s why I can’t take my eyes—or my hands—off of you.”
“Oh.” She smiled.
“And what did you think I meant by that? Some sexist remark?”
She laughed. “Actually, yes.”
“There you go, disparaging my gender again.”
“Sorry.” She laid her hand on his knee. “I promise to make it up to you later. When we have some alone time.”
He ran his fingers up her bare leg, making goose bumps break out on her skin.
“Have I mentioned to you how much I’m looking forward to being alone with you?”
“You have not.”
“I was thinking earlier that I wished we had stayed at a hotel. Then I could have you to myself.”
She liked hearing that, and she had to admit she’d had similar thoughts. “But you need to see your brother.”
He let out a laugh. “I see more than enough of him. You, on the other hand, I haven’t seen nearly enough of. In fact, right now, I’d like to pull you onto my lap, lift your dress and rub your pussy until you start moaning.”
She shifted her gaze to the kitchen, where Flynn was acting as assistant to Amelia, who was barking orders at him. An amusing sight.
Meanwhile, Barrett was distracting her by walking his fingers ever closer to the hem of her dress. When his fingers disappeared, she inched away.
“Stop,” she said, though she didn’t want him to stop. Not at all.
He gave her a wickedly sexy smile. “Later.”
Later couldn’t come soon enough.
They ended up watching a movie on television until Flynn came into the living room to tell them dinner was going to be ready soon.
“Would you like me to set the table?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve got that covered.”
“It smells wonderful,” she said.
“Yeah,” Barrett said. “Whatever she’s cooking up in there is making me hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Flynn said.
“Okay, that’s true, too.”
Flynn went back into the kitchen.
“So whatever she fixed went outside on the grill,” she said to Barrett. “Any thoughts?”
“Steak.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t smell like steak, and she wouldn’t have made a steak on the grill.”
“Why not? That’s where I cook mine.”
She laughed. “You’re not a chef.”
“So you say. I’ll have you know I make killer steaks.”
“I’m sure you do. But I’m talking restaurant quality.”
“There you go, insulting my manhood again.”
She rolled her eyes and they focused on watching TV.
Flynn came in a bit later, a bottle of wine in his hand. “Dinner’s ready.”
Harmony stood. “I’m excited.”