After Charlie so graciously ended our conversation, Jack leaned on both hands on the island and stared at me. “Your sister?” he asked with a hint of a grin. I nodded. “She hear me on my phone?” Again, I nodded. “She give you shit?” He smiled huge at me. Bastard.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that.” I glared at him and raised my eyebrows. “She said if I don’t call her back later, she’s going to accidentally tell Mom,” I told him and shook my head.

“Ah, she’s good,” he said, then turned back into the kitchen. I sat there, frozen and wondered what the hell to tell Charlie when I called her back.

Watching Jack in the kitchen was like watching the Cooking Channel in HD, 3D, or ADJ—All Delicious Jack. He had command of everything he touched, whether it be a knife, colander, or pan. The intensity he showed on his face was sexy as hell. He must’ve felt my eyes on him because he looked up and gave me the hottest grin. Ever. My panties could have started a fire. It was like he could see right into my thoughts.

A few minutes later, Jack slid two steaming plates onto the island. Yum. I couldn’t believe my luck until I heard loud knocking on my door. Good freaking heavens. Not now, not now, not now, not now, not now, I chanted in my head, hoping whoever was there turned around and left.

“Harper?” Jack motioned to the door. “I think someone’s knocking?” He pointed out the obvious, but the poor man had no idea what would happen if I opened the door.

“Yeah, I can hear. I’m just hoping they’ll go away.” The banging continued, and it was getting more frantic. Shit. Up I got to open the door.

Roza and Riley practically fell into my apartment. I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been so pissed at them for showing up. “Hi, ladies, where’s the fire?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wearing her yellow flowered brunch coat, Roza spoke first, “We were worried. We smelled cooking smells coming from your apartment and thought maybe someone broke in.” Her arms flailed for added emphasis.

“You thought someone broke into my apartment and started cooking?” I questioned, frowning at them.

“Well, that’s what Roza thought. I was just worried about you using the stove all by yourself,” Riley said, then trailed off when she caught sight of Jack. “Oh, hi, Jack. I didn’t know you were here. Nice to see you again.” She turned and grabbed Roza’s arm. “Roza, this is Harper’s new friend, Jack.” Roza looked up at Jack and practically ran me over getting to him.

She put out her hand and he shook hers, saying, “Nice to meet you, Roza.”

I could tell even from behind that Roza was taken with Jack. For one, she didn’t say a word, and Roza was a lot of things, but she was never, ever quiet. Secondly, she didn’t let go of his hand. Like at all. The shake should have been over a minute ago, but she was still holding on. Good grief.

Jack didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he asked them if they would both like to stay for a late lunch because he made too much. Gah. I turned to Riley and gave her the look meaning, If you stay, I will kill you both.

“Thanks, Jack, but Roza and I have to be going. We just wanted to check in and make sure everything is fine. We’ll all have to get together soon, though,” she said and saved the day. Roza was still clamped on to Jack’s hand. Clearly the woman needed to be physically removed. I walked over and grabbed her other hand and pulled her out of her trance.

“Thanks for coming over to make sure I was okay, Roza. Riley says you have to go home now,” I said and tugged on her arm until she came unglued from Jack. How embarrassing.

She leaned over as we walked and said, “He has very big, strong hands, Harper. Good girl.” Then she patted me on the back. I swore Jack chuckled behind me, so I twisted around and shot him a glare.

“Bye, ladies. See you later,” I told them before shoving them through the door.

“Nice meeting you, Roza, and great seeing you again, Riley,” Jack called out as I shut the door on them, then leaned against it, and took a big, calming breath.

“That was fun,” the big bastard said, laughing. Yeah, it was a ton of fun. “Come and eat before it gets cold.”

Now he was talking my language. Praying for no other disturbances, I pushed away from the door and sat down. Oh man, whatever he made smelled delicious. I was dying to dive into it, but I hadn’t forgotten all my manners, so I waited for Jack to sit.

He grabbed a bottle of wine out of the fridge. How did that get in there? Hmm…

“Do you have wine glasses, Harper?” he asked while he opened the bottle.

“Uh, I have glass glasses, but no particular wine glasses. Just above the sink,” I told him.

“Don’t wait for me. Start,” he told me as he took two glasses from the top shelf. One said “Gymnasts Do It Better” and I immediately blushed. Oh crap. Charlie got the glass and the cup as a matching set gag gift one year for my birthday. She and Pete thought it was hilarious. Mom kept asking what exactly gymnasts did better than everyone else. Ugh.

Well, what was done was done, so I sighed and picked up my fork. I stabbed a shrimp and a few accompanying peppers and took my first bite. It was a savory delight. There was curry in it—that I knew for certain—and something made it sweet. The shrimp was tender and juicy, and flavors burst in my mouth. Yum.

“This is awesome, Jack. What is it?” I asked, only half-paying attention to what he was doing.

“It’s Thai red curry shrimp.” He placed the gymnast glass in front of me and smiled. I ignored his coy look and stabbed more shrimp.

“Were you a gymnast, Harper?” At first, I wasn’t sure if he and his long legs would fit on my crappy kitchen stool, but he made it work. And damn, did he look good doing it.

“Yeah, in my early years.” I motioned to my glass with my fork. “Charlie’s idea of a joke. I’ll warn you now, there’s a matching coffee cup.”

“Nice. How old were you when you quit?” He looked at me, seemingly interested in my answer.

“Ah, right about when puberty kicked in,” I stated bluntly, hoping he’d get the picture.

“Oh, right,” he said, glancing down at my breasts. He cleared his throat and kept eating. We ate in silence after that. It was nice just sitting, not feeling like I had to cover up awkward quiet moments.

I finished and put my fork on my plate. “That was spectacular,” I told him and grabbed my wine.

“Do you want more? Or right to dessert?” he said, scooping the last of his rice into his gorgeous mouth.

“I’m stuffed. There’s no room for anything. Except wine. There’s always room for wine.”

“You go sit down and I’ll finish up in there,” he said, nodding to the kitchen while collecting our plates.

“No, you cooked. You aren’t cleaning, too,” I scolded and started putting the food away. He never did sit down. I filled the sink with soap and water.

“I’ll wash.” He poked his head out of the fridge, putting the last of the leftovers away. “I’m great at washing dishes.”

“It takes certain skills I don’t possess?” I asked sarcastically. I didn’t listen and continued to fill the sink with dishes.

A few bowls in, he came up behind me and brushed the hair away from my face and neck. “I said I’d wash.”

Shivers ran through my body at his gentle contact. My nipples got hard, and I was glad he couldn’t see. “I know how to do dishes,” I said breathlessly. He stepped in closer behind me, and I felt every inch of his big, warm body.

My hands joined hers in the sink, but instead of washing the dishes, I had other ideas. “I do them better,” I murmured against her skin as I kissed and licked my way up her neck.

“Mmm,” was all she said while her body melted into mine. I threaded my slippery fingers between hers and rubbed them sensuously. “Yeah, you definitely do the dishes better than me.” She giggled.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Her arms reached over her head to touch my hair, that luscious body arching for me. My wet hands slid out of the water and onto her breasts. Her nipples were hard but not rock hard like my cock was against her ass. She moaned as I played with her breasts and kissed her neck.

Restless, I moved my hands behind her neck and undid her top. A sudden bolt of guilt hit me.

Her ex-husband had been a dick to her for years. In fact, he was still being a dick to her. It didn’t take a genius to see how broken she still was over what happened. And then today he tried to attack her? I was a dick to her. Now, in my defense, I planned to stop being a dick, but that didn’t mean she truly believed me. This sweet hot blonde needed someone to trust. She hadn’t had anyone in her bed in a year and half. I’d be the first to break the seal after her divorce—her completely shitty, awful split.

She deserved better than me. I tried to stay away. That didn’t work. The least I could do was try to be a decent human being and not take advantage of her. Not until she knew me better. Knew who I really was and trusted me. If I couldn’t lay it all out for her, I sure as hell shouldn’t be ripping off her panties. Yet.

Exhaling deeply, I tied her top back up and hugged her, wrapping my arms around her torso.

“Umm, Jack?” she questioned.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you stop?”

After a while, I cleared my throat and said, “Harper, I think we should take sex off the table.”

She turned in my arms and glared daggers at me. “Um, no, that’s a very bad idea.”

“I’m officially taking it off the table, baby. We need some time to get to know each other and for you to trust me.” And for me to get my shit together and spill the truth.

“Are you nuts?” she asked, pushing her upper body away from mine as far as I’d allow.

“Look, I’m not taking it off the table forever. Just for a while.” I leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“And I don’t get a say in this?” She squinted her eyes.

“Not tonight, okay? Trust me on this one? There’s nothing more that I’d love to do than finally burying myself inside of you. Believe me. But tonight is not the time.”

“You’re crazy, aren’t you? Just my luck. I finally meet a guy after all this time and he’s certifiable.”

“Crazy for you.” I kissed her nose. “Now scoot over so I can finish the dishes.”

We finished the dishes, then settled down on her couch. I scanned the room and stated the obvious. “You don’t have a TV.”

“Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t. I did. I used to. But I had to get rid of it,” she said, pulling her legs in.

“Why’d you have to get rid of it?” I asked, confused, tightening my arm around her.

“Well, it kinda stopped working after I threw the gaming system into it.”

“What?” I laughed. “Why?” I grabbed her hand.

“Well, gaming systems are actually heavier than you’d think. It smashed the screen pretty bad.”

“Okay, wiseass. I meant, why did you throw the gaming system into the TV? Were you angry, or was it an accident?”

“Well, it was an accident that I married Gabe, and that led to making me angry. So both, I guess,” she told me truthfully. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed it.

“I see. And what specifically made you angry enough to chuck his gaming system? I’m assuming it was his.”

“Oh, it was his, all right. So was the TV, and he loved both of those things more than he did me. He spent more time with them than he ever did with me, too,” she said. Her body moved in closer and she put an arm across my stomach and laid her head on my chest. God, she felt so good. “I also ripped down the big black drapes he put up. What kind of psycho puts up black drapes in a living room?”

I squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. “Someone who takes enjoyment out of extinguishing bright lights. The light hurts their eyes and their souls so much that they do whatever it takes to stamp it out to make themselves feel better.” I knew this from experience.

She stared at me, wanting to ask a question, I could tell. The only problem was, I didn’t want to answer. “All right, I see books here.” I pointed to the stack of books on the side table. “You read instead of watch TV?”

“I’m a big reader. Mostly just romance, though,” she said warily, like I was going to tease her or something. Jesus, her ex really did a number on her.

“You grab a book or e-reader or whatever and find something for me to read. I didn’t bring any of my books with me.”

“Uh, you have a phone, right? You can get like ninety reading apps,” she informed me, aghast that I left the house without access to good books.

“Excellent point. New plan—you help me download one of the ninety available reading apps and I’ll pick a book.” This could take a while. Full of excitement, she claimed my phone as her own and started downloading reading apps.

“What kinds of books do you like?” She raised her eyebrows but continued typing. “I’m really good at book matchmaking.”

We sat there forever, looking over apps, discussing books. I decided, with her advice, on a newly released mystery. She seemed more than pleased with herself for making a good book match.

Once we had our books on cue, I sat back against the arm of the couch and pulled her between my legs so she could lie back on me. That felt nice. I’d never just sat and read and snuggled with a woman before.

I could get used to this.