Instead, he wanted to send her running straight to his bedroom.
“Now,” he said against her ear. And yeah, he may have nuzzled her a little with his nose. “Pay attention because I’m only going to demonstrate this one more time. We both know you’re not going to be able to fake your indifference much longer.”
“You’re pushing it,” she warned him.
He chuckled against her neck, enjoying the hell out of how her whole body went rigid. Yeah, definitely not indifferent. Then, just because he’d always been one to test his boundaries, he pressed a soft kiss beneath her ear, allowing his lips to linger and savor how incredibly soft she was. How good she smelled and tasted even better.
Her breath huffed out. “Brandon,” she whispered. “Stop.”
His eyes dropped closed as he inhaled her intoxicating scent. Sort of like a warm summer breeze blowing off the ocean. It was enough to make a man drop to his knees and howl at the moon. Or maybe drop his pants and piss a circle around her. Not exactly romantic, but his primal side wanted to do exactly that so that all the other guys in this town knew to stay the hell away.
“Do I bother you, Stella?” he asked against her ear.
The golf club dropped from her limp hands. “Yes, you bother me.”
“Good. Because it’s probably not half as much as you bother me.”
With the golf club gone, Brandon’s hands were free to explore. They went to Stella’s thighs first, spreading and spanning her lean muscles, prompting images of them wrapped around his hips. She expelled another long breath when his palms slid up her legs to grip her hips. His fingers ran along the hem of her shirt, skimming her sensitive, creamy soft skin. Damn, how he wanted to drop his mouth there and trail kisses across her stomach. He bet she’d be responsive. Because Stella didn’t do anything half-heartedly. No, she threw herself into everything she did with a single-minded determination that was one hell of a turn-on.
“How about some dinner?” he questioned.
“Huh?” she squeaked when this thumb pushed under her shirt and found her belly button.
“Dinner. It’s the meal that follows lunch,” he explained. “I have some steaks marinating in the fridge.”
A flush of red stained her cheeks. “Don’t be an ass,” she scolded. “I just don’t know how you can go from”—she gestured between the two of them—“whatever that was, to offering dinner.”
“We could always go back to golf,” he suggested.
“I think my golfing days are over.”
He closed the distance between them and cupped her face with his hands, tilting her head up so he could speak against her lips. “Stella,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’m going to lose my shit if I don’t find something to do with my hands, other than shove them up your shirt.” He looked into her sky-blue eyes. “Or you can make your way to the front door. The choice is yours.”
She licked her lips and toyed with the collar of his shirt. “Do you have any more of that beer?”
Fourteen
Stella wandered around in Brandon’s spacious kitchen, bypassing the large island for the fridge. Pinned to the stainless steel doors with magnets was a grocery list and a note to remind someone to grab another prescription for Duke’s heartworm medication. There were also several photos that caught her attention.
Stella pointed to one with Matt in a navy blue cap and gown, holding a black diploma with Brandon’s arm slung around his son’s shoulders. Both had ear-to-ear grins. “What’s this from?”
Brandon abandoned his chopping at the counter and glanced at the photo. “Matt’s eighth-grade graduation.”
She scrutinized the photo while sipping on her wine, noting how much Matt had grown since then. “He looks so much younger here.”
“You’re telling me.” Brandon’s voice so close behind Stella almost made her spill her wine.
She took another sip to calm her nerves. “I would say it’s crazy how fast they grow up, but I wouldn’t really know.” She turned to face him and almost succumbed to her desire to brush her mouth across his. To hide the heat scorching her cheeks, Stella ducked around him and eyed the dinner Brandon was in the process of preparing. “Need any help with all this?”
He gazed at her for a moment, his clever eyes missing nothing and scanning her face before answering. “No, I’ve got it.” He returned to the counter and resumed his work. “Cooking is one of the many things you learn how to do as a single parent.”
Annabelle’s revelation about Trish came back, but Stella pushed the curiosity aside. Hell yeah, she wanted to know the story behind that one. She also wanted to know how it was affecting Brandon. If he needed anyone to talk to. If he was worried or confused or hurt. Unfortunately, it wasn’t any of Stella’s business to pry, nor was she the person to comfort him. Even though she wanted to.
She feigned a casualness she didn’t feel and leaned against the counter. “I never pegged you for someone who could cook.” When he slanted her a doubting look, she held her hands up. “No offense or anything. I just thought you wouldn’t have the patience for all this. Personally I’d rather throw a pizza in the oven and be done with it.”
Brandon snorted. “Bite your tongue. Food is a delicacy that deserves time and effort. Can’t just be throwing shit together willy-nilly.” He snagged a sliced piece of the already grilled steak and held it out to her. “Try some of that.”
When she moved to take the meat from his hand, Brandon held it back and shook his head. “Nope. I get to do it and you have to close your eyes.”
“Are you kidding me?”
One of his dark brows arched. “Do you trust me, Stella?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not sure.”
He blew out a breath. “When we sit down to eat, I want you to have an appreciation for the steak. You can’t just jump in and attack it. It needs to be finessed and appreciated.”
“You do realize it’s a piece of meat and not the Mona Lisa?”
“Just close your eyes or I’m sticking you with dish duty.”
“Not if we use paper plates.”
He didn’t reply. Just stood there waiting patiently like he had all the time in the world.
She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and decided to appease him. “Fine.” She held up her index finger. “But the steak is the only thing that goes in here,” she warned with a gesture toward her mouth.
“You were that kid in class who reminded the teacher about the test, weren’t you?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she protested.
“Just open your mouth and close your eyes before you give your portion to Duke.” Then he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Because I don’t give my meat to just any woman.”