“I hope so. I’m going to make a chicken pot pie from scratch and biscuits for tonight.”
“Then we’d better get out of your way.” Mrs. Brodie and Chelsea waved as they left.
Finally, she was ready to begin living here in the manner she intended. The way she wanted it to go.
The kitchen was the largest room in the house, although she hadn’t seen Graham’s bedroom, and it might be bigger. She doubted it. He didn’t appear to need much space. The layout of this room was also good with lots of counter space.
She took out the fresh vegetables, cleaned and chopped them, then washed her new large pot and put them in with chicken broth and some of her favorite seasonings.
Gina hummed as she rinsed the chicken, patted it dry, and put it in the skillet to brown. She was always happy when she was cooking.
* * * *
Graham was glad when his mother and sister-in-law left. He could sit in his study and try to work on his edit. But Gina’s image kept getting between him and his pages.
She’d been smiling when they got back, and her cheeks were rosy. His mother and Chelsea appeared to like her too much. And it felt odd to see three women in his kitchen, unnerving, actually. He hadn’t missed seeing new pots and pans and tons of groceries. She obviously thought she’d need to be here for quite a while.
When he heard her humming and began to smell food cooking, he couldn’t resist peeking. “What the hell are you doing?” Graham shouted.
His loud voice startled her, and Gina teetered on the small ladder. Graham grabbed her before she fell.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she said and frowned. “I’m trying to put up the curtains I bought. They’ll give this room a more cheerful appearance.”
Graham stared into her golden eyes. Her pale-pink lips were curved into a smile, and warmth from her soft body was raising his heat level and his cock. He dropped her to her feet abruptly.
“I told you I don’t like change,” he growled.
She stood toe to toe with him. He almost laughed. Her face was even with his chest, but she’d bent her head back and glowered at him.
“I’ll take it down when I go.”
“And all this other stuff you bought, too.” He pointed to a wall clock, a tablecloth, and matching napkins. They were all in red and white to match the curtains.
“I will. Get out of here, and let me finish preparing our main dish for dinner.”
Graham started to say it was his kitchen, but instead he hesitated, took a moment to look around, and went back to his man cave, as he liked to think of his study.
He couldn’t get back to work. The kitchen had looked different, brighter. Especially with Gina standing in the middle, the sunlight shining through the window on her auburn curls and the frilly apron tied around her waist. His resolve not to carry her into his bedroom and bury his hungry cock in her pussy was weakening. But he mustn’t take that step.
He had to keep his mind on his work and get this edit done. Because of Gina, he was making poor progress. Why did he agree to have Sylvia’s sister come here? Especially when he’d reacted to her picture. It was a dumb, dumb, dumb idea. Sylvia had caught him in a weak moment.
“It’s ready to eat.” Gina stuck her head in the doorway.
Graham glanced at the clock. It’d been an hour and he was still on page five. “I might as well eat. I’m not accomplishing much in here.”
“Don’t you like to edit and polish?” Gina asked as they walked across into the kitchen.
“No, it’s my least favorite part of writing.” He sniffed the air. “Something smells good.” He sat at the end of the table and peeked under the cloth covering a small basket to his left. “Hot biscuits. Did you buy any honey?”
She turned from the oven, carrying a bowl covered with golden crust. She set it on the placemat in front of him. A wonderful fragrance filled the air.
“Yes, I have some.” She reached in a cabinet and put his favorite wildflower honey in front of him. “Your mother told me about your passion for biscuits with honey.” She went back to the oven and got her individual dish covered in crust.
“I’m worried about what all she told you about me.”
Gina shrugged. “Not much. Women like to discuss various topics,” she said as she poured their iced tea. She put the tea at their places and out of the fridge produced two salad bowls and the dressing he liked.
“You must have talked about me a lot in the grocery store. What is this?” he asked and pointed to the bowl.
“Chicken pot pie, try it. You’ll like it. But you’d do better to start with the salad. The pot pie is extremely hot.”
Graham hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he did as she said and doused his salad with dressing. When he began to eat, Gina followed suit. For many minutes they didn’t talk, but it was a comfortable silence.
He got up and went to the living room to turn on the music. When he returned, Gina smiled. “I should light candles and…”
“Don’t push your luck.” He broke into the pie and took a bite. It was still hot, but delicious. Gina could cook. She was waiting for his response. He took his time, drank some tea, and tried another bite.
“Well?” she asked.
“Mom makes a superb pot pie. Everyone says hers is the best, but I think this one might be better.”
Gina clapped her hands and smiled brightly. “Thank you. I practice and take in dishes to the staff. They’ve all said I’m a good cook, but from someone who doesn’t particularly care about food, your compliment means more.”
“I like food, if I don’t have to fix it.”
“Whatever, you can’t take away my joy from your words.”
She went back to eating. Graham found himself hardly able to take his eyes off her. The harder he tried to tell himself not to get involved with her, the more his body struggled with his mind.
He did manage to clean his bowl and eat three biscuits, two with honey. When he pushed back from the table, Gina stopped him.
“Dessert is next.”
“You had time to bake, too? I’m full.”
Gina pulled a coconut pie out of the refrigerator. “I thought you might want at least a small piece. I have some fresh coffee made to go with it.”
“You did this on purpose, fixing all my favorites. You knew I’d never be able to resist.”
“I hoped.” She set the pie on the counter. “Why don’t you go out on the porch? I’ll bring our dessert and coffee.”
“Just a small piece,” he said and hurried out of the room. He needed time alone to restore his defenses. No woman had ever made them crumble so fast and thoroughly. Graham sat and took a deep breath of the fresh night air scented with the smell of pine. Temperatures had dropped, and he got up to get a jacket for him and Gina. He met her on the way to the porch.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab us a jacket.”
He grabbed the one he’d worn this morning and a lined coat for Gina, and then returned outside.
Gina had placed his coffee and a small slice of pie on the table by the chair on the left. She sat on the other side of the porch in a matching chair. Graham threw the coat across her shoulders before putting his on. Gina slipped her arms in and zipped up the front.
“Much better, thank you.” She picked up her plate and tasted the pie.
Graham noticed hers was bigger and wished he hadn’t demanded a smaller piece. He took a bite and closed his eyes. “Heavenly.” She giggled at his antics.
Again they ate and sipped their coffee in silence. Graham relaxed. The scene was pleasant, cozy. All his alarm bells went off, and he straightened in his chair. He didn’t do cozy, did he? He glanced at Gina. She was staring out at the darkness, a faint smile on her face. His heart did a little skip.
Oh, hell, I’m in trouble. I’m already half in love with her.
“Is something wrong?” Gina interrupted his thoughts.
“Why do you ask?”
“You had such a strange expression on your face, sort of dazed. Is my pie disagreeing with your stomach?”
“Not at all. I’m fine, just tired. I’m going to bed.” He stood with his empty cup and plate in his hands.
“I thought we might watch television,” Gina said.
“Help yourself, it won’t bother me.” He strode off to end the conversation. If he stayed in her vicinity for one more moment he’d lose control, and she might reject him. She ought to.
* * * *
Gina sat outside for a while longer. It surprised her how much she loved the quiet. The dark sky dazzled with stars, and the air had a clean smell.
They hadn’t heard from her sister or anyone. She worried Sylvia was caught and in a dark place. Hopefully she’d be rescued and give up her crazy job. There wasn’t anything Gina could do to help her sister except stay here and be safe.
It was going to take time for her plan to work on Graham. If it did. She’d keep busy. In fact, tonight might be a good time to paint her room. His bedroom door would be shut, and he’d be asleep.
She jumped up and took the dishes to the kitchen. Then in her room she spread the cloth she’d bought to protect the furniture and floor, then put on her old clothes and started.
Since the room was small, it didn’t take long to paint, but the smell lingered. Gina put on her long gown with the long sleeves, took her blanket and pillow, and headed to the living room. She’d sleep on the couch tonight. She’d opened her bedroom windows and shut the door. By tomorrow her room would be fine.
She briefly wondered about Graham’s reaction when he discovered she’d painted her room and hung different curtains. He’d bluster and gripe, but she’d smile and ignore him, she hoped. A tiny flicker of fear warned her she might have dangled the red flag in front of the bull one time too many, but she pushed the thought away. He’d get over the surprise.
Graham woke early, as usual. He showered, dressed, and decided to get some of his editing done before Gina woke and diverted his attention.
When he walked into the hall, his nose twitched. Paint? No, she wouldn’t dare, or would she? He stepped closer to her door. A faint odor of paint seeped around the edges. Quietly, he turned the door handle and opened the door a crack then rushed inside.
Yellow, bright yellow everywhere and new curtains to match. She’d put a white lace cloth under the lamp. Where was she? Her bed hadn’t been slept in.
He charged down the short hall and into the living room, glancing all around. She lay on her side on the sofa. Her auburn curls were tousled, and her thin white nightgown was hiked up, showing shapely legs. Inside, he began to soften.
No, she couldn’t come in and start changing everything. She was breaking all his rules. So he’d break one of his. He scooped her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked, in a sexy, sleepy voice.
Striding to her door, he flung it open. “You painted after I said no painting!”
“You didn’t specifically say no painting, and it’s just a tiny space. The room’s more pleasant now. Not so cold and clinical.”
He turned, kicked his door wide open, and carried her inside. Staring into her large, seductive eyes, he tried to growl.
“You knew the rules, but women always want to bend them. First, the kitchen, then the bedroom, at this rate before you leave my whole house won’t be mine anymore.” He had difficulty keeping his mind on what he needed to emphasize to her. Her pink lips teased him to taste them.
“Put me down. I promise this is all I planned to do with the decorating. I won’t touch your sterile living room or your man cave.”
Graham let her feet slip to the ground. “Sterile living room?”
Gina leaned her head way back and frowned. “I should call it the second man cave. Two chairs, a small couch, and a television does not make for welcoming guests.”
“Maybe you don’t understand what I’ve been saying to you. I don’t want company, and I don’t have company.”
“You do now.” She started to walk off, but stopped to give him a flirty smile over her shoulder. He rushed forward, swung her into his arms, took two long steps, and dumped her on his bed.
He followed her down and cupped her face in his hands. “I warned you about teasing.” His lips captured hers. They were soft as a baby’s skin. He nibbled on her stubborn bottom lip. He’d hungered to taste it. Her body moved under his, and his cock pulsed against her in happy anticipation.
Most of his weight was held off of her small frame by his elbows. Graham took his time kissing her face and nibbling on her satin-smooth neck. He straddled her when he got to the high neckline of her gown.
“This looks like a virginal bridal gown.” He caught a fleeting expression in her eyes and swung himself off of her. “Are you a virgin?”
She licked her lips, raising the fever in his body. “No, it’s been a long time, though.”
“How long?”
“None of your business. Do you want to make love to me or not?” Her eyes sparkled with defiance.
“Hell, yes.” He stood and had his clothes off and his cock sheathed in a minute. Then he took hold of the top of her gown and tore it down the middle.
“What are you doing?” she yelled.