Page 46 of Twisted Beauty

Liv blinked. She stared at him for a moment and took a step back. “Okay.”

“This way to the guest room.” He led her down the hall. “Try to ignore the posters of teenage heartthrobs.”

She took one step into the bedroom and chuckled. “You weren’t kidding. Justin Bieber? He’s a thing here too, huh?”

Matt sighed. “Unfortunately. Every time I take a poster down, Aleta puts up something worse to replace it the next time she visits. So I’ve basically surrendered until she outgrows it. She’s in college, so I think she’s just screwing with me at this point.”

“That’s sweet,” Liv said.

It wasn’t sweet. He wasn’t sweet, and he didn’t need anyone thinking that.

When they’d first met, Sadie gushed over how accommodating he was. She had him fooled with that bullshit for months. Long enough to get a ring on her finger and take him for all he was worth. To his ex-wife, sweet meant pushover. He only wished he'd figured that out sooner.

“It’s an obligation,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Sure it is.” There was that sarcasm again. “Okay, well, if you don’t think she’d be upset, I’d love some dry clothes.”

He went to the closet to shuffle through Aleta’s things, and pulled out a pair of black leggings and a pink t-shirt. “Fresh towels in the bathroom. Make yourself at home,” he said as he handed her the clothes.

He watched her walk into the guest bathroom and shut the door. An image of her peeling off that wet tank top flooded his mind, and it was a full minute or two before he remembered how to use his feet.

Back in his own room, Matt pulled off his wet clothes and changed into ratty shorts and an old t-shirt. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone here. He headed for the kitchen, needing a drink and thinking maybe he shouldn’t have one at the same time. But what the hell else was he going to do with Liv in the middle of a storm?

Other than strip her naked and christen every surface in his apartment. How was he supposed to turn off his libido for the rest of the night?

He chose a bottle of chardonnay he’d been saving, remembering Liv drank white at the party and knowing how much better it would taste than that cheap-ass crap Nate had offered her. As he pulled a couple of glasses out of the cabinet, he heard footsteps behind him.

“Wine?” he said without looking up.

“Yes, please.”

After pouring both glasses, he turned to hand one to Liv. One look at her and he almost dropped it. Damn it. He knew she’d be wearing the outfit he’d given her, but shit. Those black leggings hugged every curve, and the pink t-shirt barely skimmed the top of her hips, leaving very little to the imagination. His hands itched to touch her. Surely Aleta had something in that closet that looked more like a burlap sack. Why hadn’t he spent just a little more time looking for it?

He used every ounce of willpower to keep his eyes on her face.

Liv bit down on her bottom lip, apparently suppressing a smile. “You planning on letting go of the glass or do you want to pour it down my throat too?”

Smooth, jackass.

Matt shook his head at himself. “Just making sure you don’t drop it. You seemed pretty shaken up out there.” He forced himself to loosen his grip on the glass and she took it from him. He raised his glass slightly as if to toast.

She gave him a look that clearly said, You’re full of shit. “Right. So you think I’m so delicate I can’t drink without dropping the glass or walk in the rain without being swept away. Is that why you went all Neanderthal on me and threw me over your shoulder to cross the street?”

“A true Neanderthal wouldn’t have put you down until he reached the bedroom.”

Her mouth fell open slightly and he wondered if he’d crossed a line with that comeback. Until he saw her cheeks flush and a flash of something in her eyes that convinced him he wasn’t the only one feeling this intense heat. She looked down at her wineglass, and then brought it to her lips for a long, slow sip.

“This is incredible. What is it?”

“It’s called Chardonnay Casa Grande,” Matt said. “From Casa Madero, a group of wineries in Mexico. The oldest on the continent and the first organic vineyard in the country.” He raised his glass. “This one isn’t organic.”

“Is there anything you don’t know about?”

“Plenty.” Like how she looked naked, for one. His eyes met hers, and for a moment the electricity between them was palpable.

Liv cleared her throat and looked around the room. “This kitchen is stunning. Makes sense for a chef.”

Matt smiled at the abrupt change of subject. “Before I moved here, I was head chef at a place called Chez Claude in Malibu for two years.”