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Fucking hell.
I was in so much fucking trouble.
Chapter Four
~ANNA~
My hair was stillwet when I ran up the front steps of Reed’s porch. I knocked, then let myself in, knowing he was already home and expecting me.
“Reed? It’s just me,” I called out, but heard no answer.
I stepped through the foyer and past the hallway where I saw his bedroom door open at the end. That’s when I heard the faint sound of a shower running.
Gulping hard at that mental visual, I headed straight to the kitchen and set the spaghetti sauce in the plastic container on the kitchen table. I went right to work, pulling out a pot. There was only one the right size for boiling spaghetti. It was also pristine, never-been-used. Shaking my head and smiling, I set the water to boil, then put the sauce in a larger pot, also in perfect condition, to reheat.
I’d pulled the garlic bread out of the oven and was straining the spaghetti noodles in the sink when I heard him walk into the kitchen behind me.
“Smells good, Anna.”
The dark rumble of his voice stirred feelings of a different kind of hunger. When I glanced at him over my shoulder, I nearly dropped the damn noodles on the floor.
He was barefoot, wearing gray joggers and a loose, black tank, the kind he might workout in. He was also running a towel over his damp hair, drawing my attention to the flexing bulge of his biceps.
“Uh, yeah.” I focused back on the spaghetti and leaned against the counter before my knees gave out. “You can have a seat.”
Then I felt his body heat hovering over my left side. “You don’t have to serve me. I can get it myself.”
“No, it’s fine.” I continued shaking out the noodles though there was no water left to shake off.
He inhaled deeply then stepped back and shuffled toward the fridge. “Let’s eat in front of the TV, if you don’t mind. I’m beat today.”
“Oh.” I jerked my head around. “You want me to stay and eat?”
He paused with the fridge door open and looked at me. “I take it you haven’t eaten dinner yet either, seeing how fast you made it over here.” His gaze went to my wet hair then my change of shorts and T-shirt. “Having taken a shower, too.”
“No, I haven’t eaten.”
“Then stay and eat with me.” He glanced at the sauce simmering on the stove. “I can’t eat all of that by myself.”
I didn’t mention that I’d planned on making enough for leftovers for tomorrow night. I could barely speak with him looking so fine and staring at me like that. So I nodded dumbly. “Okay then.”
“What would you like to drink? I’ve got bottled water, Abita beer, or…bottled water.”
I caught him wincing at his relatively empty fridge except for condiments, water, and beer.
“Water is fine. Thanks.”
He grabbed a couple of waters, some silverware and paper towel napkins, and took them into his living room. When I made us both a plate and carried them out, I found him straightening the squares of paper towel on his coffee table and frowning. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Here you go.” I handed him a plate then took a seat next to him.
His frown deepened. “Maybe we should go sit at the table.”
“Reed, do you normally eat dinner at the table? Or right here in front of the TV?”
Currently, his television was set on The Office reruns.
“Here.”
