The higher powers had given me a week to come up with the questions for the stupid questionnaire before it was posted to the station’s website. That had been three days ago, and I was no closer to coming up with something good as I was after walking out of that conference room.

Word of the contest had quickly spread, and each day we were inundated with callers asking questions about it.

I rolled my eyes and threw my notepad onto the coffee table in front of me. Curling my legs beneath me on my comfy couch, I sipped my wine and allowed myself to get lost in thought as I watched the flames dance in my fireplace.

My home was my sanctuary. I loved it. The day I bought it was one of the proudest days of my life. The three-story, three-thousand-plus-square-foot townhouse in Bellevue was beautiful. It had top-of-the-line everything, from the dark hardwood floors to the crown molding and everything in between. And I bought it all by myself. I felt pride when I looked around at all I had accomplished for myself, the same pride my father felt the first time he stepped across the threshold and got a look at it for himself.

When I was younger, I’d expected to be married with a houseful of children by now. My life certainly hadn’t gone the way I’d planned, but after getting over that disappointment, I was happy with the life I’d carved out for myself.

Before her engagement, Lola was all about city living, loving the nightlife, the noise, and the people. I was the opposite. Bellevue was perfect for me. Close enough to the city that I didn’t have to go far to get where I wanted, but far enough away that I had my peace and quiet. Quiet that was unfortunately disrupted right then by the sound of my doorbell.

The digital clock on my cable box showed it was just after seven o’clock in the evening. I wasn’t expecting any visitors and certainly hadn’t dressed for one, having changed into a pair of black leggings, a rose colored, loose-knit sweater that hung off one shoulder and down to mid-thigh, and a pair of fuzzy bright pink socks. I had a ritual I did every day when I got home from work: I immediately changed out of my work clothes, washed the makeup off my face, and threw my hair in a ratty bun on the top of my head.

I padded to the door and stood on my tiptoes to peer through the peephole. “What the hell?” I cursed under my breath at the sight of the person standing on the other side. Quickly unlocking the deadbolt, I snatched the door open and glared. “What are you doing here? And how the hell did you find out where I lived?”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart.” Dominic moved through the door, gently stepping past me and into my house. “Wow, baby. This house is something else.”

“I know, that’s why I bought it. How did you find out where I lived?”

His smile was positively devastating. “Personnel files are a wonderful thing. Now, you mind pointing me toward the kitchen?”

“What. Are. You. Doing here?” I gritted out, only just then noticing the canvas grocery bags in his hands.

“I’m pretty sure I told you I was going to cash in on that hundred-thousand-dollar date, didn’t I?”

I opened my mouth to argue, to point out that those files were private, but realized he was right. I had an obligation to uphold. And if I could do it without having to get all gussied up again, that was a win-win as far as I was concerned. “Second floor,” I replied.

He looked toward the stairs and up. “How many stories does this place have?”

“Three. Living room and study are down here, kitchen and dining are on the second, and the two bedrooms are on the top.”

He whistled, giving me a sultry wink. “That’s a lot of stairs to climb. What if you’re down here and you have to pee?”

I couldn’t help myself as I laughed at the ridiculous question. “There’s a half bath on the first and second floors.”

He gave me a wink and mumbled, “Good to know,” before heading up the stairs. Resigned to my fate, I followed after him at a much slower place.

The second story of my house was completely open concept with huge windows along the back wall, making the room feel even more open. When I cleared the landing, Dominic was already at the kitchen island, removing groceries from the bags. I moved closer to get a better look, and what I saw made my stomach growl and my mouth water. The fact that I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch certainly didn’t help matters.

“Please tell me you’re making what I think you’re making.”

His chuckle did insane things to my insides. “If you’re thinking it’s Mom’s famous lasagna, then you’d be right.”

“Yes!” I hissed. I hadn’t had Elise Abbatelli’s lasagna in forever. It had been my absolute favorite meal years ago, and Dominic had gotten the recipe from him mom when we were dating so he could make it for me on special occasions. “Garlic bread?” I asked, my voice dripping with hope as I clasped my hands in front of me.

He pulled out a loaf of Italian bread, butter, and a few cloves of garlic. “Of course. What kind of Italian would I be if I made lasagna without garlic bread?”

“A horrible one.”

That earned me a full-blown laugh that made my knees weak. “Ma would disown me.”

The tension that usually swirled around us was nowhere to be found, and I suddenly forgot to be mad at him. It was almost as if I’d been transported back in time to before he broke my heart, when things between us were easy and fun.

“I also brought this.” He pulled a bottle of wine from one of the bags. “Still favor red?”

I looked at him with one brow tipped up. “Do bears shit in the woods?” He grinned, showing me all those perfect teeth, and my belly did a little flip. “I, uh, left my glass downstairs,” I mumbled, averting my gaze from the sexy grin. “Be right back.”

“I got it.” He moved quicker than me, getting to the staircase before I’d even moved two feet. “Preheat the oven for me, will you?”

Before I could argue, he was down the stairs and out of sight. I used the time alone to deep breathe and berate myself as I preheated the oven for him. All it took was the promise of my favorite meal and I’d just succumbed to his charms without putting up a fight.

I lifted my hands and waved them in front of my face to try and soothe the furious flush rising up from my chest as I stared out at the view from my windows.

When I heard his footsteps returning to the second floor, I quickly dropped my arms to my sides and spun around. He had my wineglass in one hand and… Holy shit. No, no, no, no.

“What is your ideal date? What is your political affiliation? How many children do you want?” He looked up from the notepad I’d been scribbling questions on for the contest with a smirk on his face. “What’s this?”

“Nothing,” I grumbled with a scowl on my face as I stomped toward him and snatched the notepad out of his hands. “It’s something for work.”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, humor dancing in his eyes. “Sure it is.”

“It is!” I declared as I opened the drawer I’d designated for junk and stuffed the notepad inside. “Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through other people’s stuff?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that it just so happened to be sitting next to the wineglass I went to get.”

“Well you didn’t have to be nosey.”

His voice dropped several octaves as he moved in closer, trailing his fingers along my jawline. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”

I exhaled on a sigh, turning to putty at the small touch. “Fine. You’re forgiven… this time. Now feed me. I’m starving.”

He laughed again, but thankfully turned back to the island to begin prepping before he could see how much he affected me.

I stood immobilized for several seconds, trying to figure out what the hell was happening, why I’d let Dominic run roughshod over me without so much as a peep. But as the smells of dinner began to permeate my senses, I found I didn’t really care what was happening. That lasagna brought back happy memories. I’d lie, cheat, and steal for that lasagna, and he damn well knew it.

But there was wine. I could function as long as there was wine.

* * *

I’d screwed up. Royally. Again.

I let my guard down so low that Dominic had barely needed to hop to get over it. I blamed the lasagna… and the cannoli he brought for dessert—another outstanding recipe from his mom—and the wine. I definitely blamed the wine.

I soon found myself full, slightly buzzed, and comfortably curled up on my sofa with Dominic, both of us laughing hysterically.

I’d allowed myself to get pulled into the past where Dom and I were a “we” and everything just flowed seamlessly. I had just finished relaying the story of Lola and Daphne’s brilliant idea, and how I fully intended on murdering them both.

“Man, leave it to my sister to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mmhmm,” I agreed before taking another sip of wine. “The sad part is she really thinks something will come of this whole sham. Like I’ll actually meet someone.”

His expression shifted, some of the happiness draining away, but he masked it with a smile so quick I barely caught it. “And you don’t think you will?”

“Please.” I snorted. “The last thing I want right now is a relationship. I’m happy on my own.”

He looked like he wanted to say something deep, something meaningful. Thankfully he suppressed the urge by making another joke. “Who knows? Don’t be so pessimistic, Soph. You could meet the man of your dreams and live happily ever after with him in his mother’s basement, where you’ll get to spend the rest of your days watching him play video games for hours on end.”

I burst into laughter, having to put my glass on the coffee table to keep from spilling it.

“I love it when you do that,” Dominic murmured, cutting through my laughter. My giggles slowly tapered off slowly before eventually stopping all together.

“What?” I asked, slightly breathless thanks to the look on his face and those deep, dark, half-mast eyes.

“When you laugh like that,” he replied, leaning forward just an inch. “So carefree and happy. You’re beautiful when you laugh. Hell, you could be wearing a pair of dirty, ratty sweats and you’d still take my breath away just by laughing.”

My head started to float, and not just because of the wine. “Dom,” I said softly, his name leaving my lips like a plea. But I wasn’t quite sure what I was pleading for. Did I want him to stop, or keep going?

“God,” he breathed. “Do you have any fucking clue how much I’ve missed you?”

I did. Because I missed him just as much. Even when I hated him.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the great food and surprisingly enjoyable company. Maybe it was because I was lost in the past. But whatever the reason, I found myself doing something incredibly stupid.

One second I’d been sitting on the other end of the couch.

The next… I threw myself in Dominic’s arms, devouring his mouth like a woman possessed.