Page 34 of Pink and Country

My body warmed up.

“Wine?” Pink Fairy asked as I dropped everything on the kitchen counter once she picked up the board game from my arms. For the first time, I noticed the soft music playing from the wireless speaker in the kitchen.

“No, thanks,” I said, adjusting my navy-blue plaid shirt I’d rolled at the elbows and shimmying out of my jacket. “I’ll stick to water.” A song of mine, “Forever,” began and my neighbor hummed the first notes. My body tensed. My back stiffened. “Country music fan?” I asked, doing my best to busy myself in the kitchen and avoid staring at her.

“I love just about any music. But country soothes me. There’s just something about it.” She shrugged. “I must sound silly.” A feeling tightened in my chest, and I forced a breath out.

“Why don’t you go relax while I set the table. Everything should be ready in ten minutes.”

Foxy Woman neared me. “Oh, this smells good. And it looks divine. Gnocchi?”

“Yeah. With tomato pesto. Here,” I said, bringing pieces to her mouth with a fork. “Taste it.” Pink Girl pursed her lips, blew on it, and took a bite. Fucking hot. Not the food.

This woman was a vision.

Fairy licked her lips but forgot a little drop at the corner. With a sharp intake, I wiped the red sauce with the pad of my thumb. Pixie bit her bottom lip, and I thought I’d die from a heart attack. Before I did something my whole body was burning to do, I stepped back. The knuckle of my thumb found my forehead. My pulse quickened. How fast was too fast? My sexy neighbor lowered her gaze.

“Thanks. This is delicious. I’ll set the table; you finish up here.” She poured herself a glass of Chardonnay and chugged half of it in one sip. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. Why did I think coming here tonight was a good idea?

I plated our food and added fresh herbs from the container set on the windowsill to give it a chef’s treatment. I took a step back and smiled. Yeah, that looked good.

When Jeff turned eighteen—I was fifteen—Mom gave us cooking lessons for months. She feared Jeff would only eat takeout in college. She told us people ate with their eyes, so my brother and I learned how to present our food in a tasty way. Now I’d mastered the skill. Useful when it was time to impress a girl. Worked every time. Didn’t hurt that I liked to cook either.

I placed both plates on the wooden table, along with the bottle of wine, where Pixie had already set two glasses of water. She lit up a candle centerpiece while humming a song I didn’t recognize.

“What are you singing?” I asked as we sat on either side of the table, the candle projecting shadows on the wall behind us.

“Oh, that? An old jingle from a cereal ad I watched too many times when I was a kid. Every now and then, it pops into my mind, and I can’t get rid of it for days.”

She grinned. I grinned back. Tonight, it looked like someone had tattooed a permanent smile on her face. All the restraints I saw every other time we crossed paths had melted away. I loved it.

Hungry Woman devoured her gnocchi as if she were on death row and was graced one last meal. I had a hard time looking elsewhere.

“Tell me the truth, are you a chef? Because you cock like one. No, cook. I mean cook like one. Gosh.” Dirty Mind blushed, and her hotness multiplied. Did she look that irresistible on purpose?

I smirked, lifted my water to my lips, and let the slipup go.

“No, I’m not. Maybe I should rethink my career choice.”

Fairy regained her composure. “Please. If you do, let me invest in your business.” A warm laugh escaped my lips. “I’m not kidding. This tastes amazing,” she said, pointing to her food. My neighbor offered me a broad smile, and my knees weakened under the table.

“If only I’d known the way to a compliment was through your stomach, I would’ve cooked for you days ago.” Gorgeous Woman scrunched up her nose, and I let free the laugher bubbling inside me. I stood to clear the table. “What about some Monopoly now and some dessert later?” I cocked a brow.

“You brought dessert?”

“Sure did. I told you, I’m not just a handsome ass. I can also be a gentleman.”

We set up the game on the coffee table in the living room and sat on pillows. Pixie placed the half-drunk bottle of wine beside her on the floor after refilling her glass.

Her eyes sparkled in the dim light. Keeping my hands—and my mouth—to myself was sweet torture. How could the connection between us be so effortless? Like we’d known each other inside out. Like we’d been friends for years.

“Okay, HN. I hope you’re not a sore loser because I thrive at Monopoly. And I’m heartless.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you, Fairy Girl. But never underestimate me. I was a real estate shark in another life.”

I winked.

She gasped.