Page 42 of Big Girl Panties

He pursed his lips as his eyes scanned over my face like he was reading me, trying to determine whether he should say whatever it was. "Do you want to find love again?"

I smiled. "Yes." I dropped my gaze to my glass of wine. "You know, it's kind of weird. When you showed up in my life, I think I'd convinced myself that my ex was right and that the dating world was hard for me, but you made me realize I never even really gave myself a chance. I never really put myself out there to date." My gaze lifted, meeting his, something shifting in his eyes.

"Is that what you want to do?" He pushed up on the counter, flattening his palms and stiffening his arms. "Do you want to put yourself out there and date?"

My heart raced, hope and fear warring within me. I searched his face for any sign of insincerity, any hint that this was too good to be real. But all I found was open vulnerability in his eyes, a mirror to my own doubts and desires. The possibility of something real, something lasting, stretched between us like a tightrope—thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

I slid off my stool and moved to the large window overlooking the city and the bay. The rain was still pouring down.

Even with my back turned, I could sense him moving behind me. The air crackled with energy, making my skin prickle with awareness. Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly exhaled as his heat surrounded me. "It's hard to want that," I dropped my voice to a low whisper, "when there's this perfect man standing here in my apartment."

My eyes fluttered closed as he slid my hair off my bare shoulder, brushing his fingertips along my heated skin. "But?"

"But… When something seems too good to be true, it usually is." He dropped his mouth to the bare skin of my shoulder, and I tilted my head, giving him access to whatever he wanted. "And something as perfect as you has to be too good to be true."

"Ah," he smiled against my skin, and I literally melted. "So the problem is you think I'm perfect." He brushed his lips over my shoulder and up my neck. The coarse hair of his beard sent chills racing over my body.

"Mmhmm," I hummed as my stomach fluttered. "And I should definitely trust my judgment."

"Well, then I have some disappointing news for you." Matt's fingers splayed across my hips, the heat of his palms searing through the thin fabric of my shirt. He pulled me flush against him, his breath fanning hot against my ear. "I hate sharing. Like, irrationally hate it. I once got into an argument with a five-year-old over the last cookie." His voice was a low growl that sent shivers cascading down my spine. His lips brushed the sensitive skin just below my ear, and I had to stifle a gasp. "I don't want to share you."

I laughed, but it came out sounding more like a moan. "That's actually kind of concerning."

"It gets worse. I'm also a complete slob. I throw clothes all over the floor."

"Big red flag." I fought back a smile, keeping my eyes closed, savoring the feel of him.

"And I'm lazy sometimes. Last Sunday, I spent four hours on the couch watching cooking shows and eating cereal for dinner."

"The man who gets up at dawn to work out is lazy?"

"Hey, everyone needs a day off from being magnificent."

I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning now. "Wait… You eat cereal?"

"Only for dinner."

"Anything other flaws I should know about?"

"Yeah." His voice dropped to a mock-serious whisper. "I have a really dirty sense of humor. Like, I still laugh at bathroom jokes."

"Scandalous," I deadpanned.

"I warned you." His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt, slowly sliding it up, and I was thankful for the darkness. As much as I wanted this, as much as I wanted him, my insecurities were still very present. "Still think I'm perfect?" I lifted my arms, letting him slide my shirt over my head. "See," he tossed my shirt onto the floor, "slob."

I twisted in his arms, my gaze lifted, meeting his. "Well, you're clearly a disaster of a human being."

"The worst," he agreed.

"I guess I'll have to learn to live with it."

"Is that so?" His eyes lit up with hope and mischief.

I nodded as he brushed his knuckles across my collarbone. "Well, someone has to keep you in line. Make sure you don't get into any more fights with kindergarteners over baked goods."

"Good," he smirked, walking backward and guiding us into the living room.

He dropped back onto the couch, leaving me standing, and his heated gaze was so intense as it raked over me that I almost moved to cover myself.