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The open possessiveness of it hit me hard enough that my grip tightened around the spatula. Fifteen months ago, another woman noticing me would’ve sent Charm retreating into every insecurity she carried. Today, she looked like she wanted Temple—and everyone else in the room—to know exactly who had my attention.
“Subtle,” I said.
“I told you I wasn’t fighting fair.”
“You’re going to start something you can’t finish in this room.”
“Maybe I don’t want to finish it here.”
My hand caught her hip and pulled her closer until her back met my chest. I kissed along the side of her neck while pretending to inspect the tortillas.
Charm leaned into me instead of checking who might be watching.
“You’re burning the meat,” she murmured.
“It’s resting.”
“You’re supposed to let it rest on a plate.”
“It can wait.”
My mouth found the sensitive place beneath her ear again. She shivered, and my hand traveled from her waist to her stomach before sliding lower across the front of her shorts.
“Ryan.”
“Tell me to move.”
“We’ll lose.”
“We’re winning in a different game right now.”
I palmed her ass and squeezed before forcing myself to release her. Charm turned around with satisfaction written across her beautiful face.
“Charm one,” she said.
Two, but she doesn’t know that. “Don’t.”
“Ryan zero.”
“I’m going to remember that score when I get you alone.”
“That sounds like another point for me.”
I returned to the steak before I abandoned the challenge completely.
We finished the pico together. Charm chopped tomatoes while I handled the onions and jalapeños. She complained that I cut everything too aggressively. I told her vegetables didn’t have feelings. She argued that presentation mattered. I reminded her we were feeding hockey players who regularly ate meals directly from takeout containers while standing over a sink.
She reminded me the other side of the guest list consisted of snobs and elitists that would think presentation was everything.
The whole thing felt natural and that was the problem.
It felt like my apartment before Thanksgiving. It felt like grocery bags on my counter, her sketchbooks covering my table mixed in with my classics and country music playing as I danced her around the tiny kitchen.
Except nothing was hidden here.
My hand remained at her waist while Cade passed behind us. I kissed Charm’s shoulder while Bliss inspected our tortillas. When Rider asked for the lime, Charm tossed it to him from inside my arms.
She didn’t flinch when Temple smiled at us. She smiled back and deliberately settled deeper against me.
