“I love pie,” he managed in between bites. “How’d you know?”

She smiled and looked as happy as he was. “Didn’t. Good guess. You seem like a pie sort of guy.”

“All-American?”

She tilted her head. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Why?”

Her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. Her blouse slid slowly down, giving him a great view. “You have all the trappings. Dogs. A successful family business. You build things instead of making a living pushing paper. You have the American flag in front of your house. And you talk well about your mom.”

He licked the fork and considered. “Sounds solid. Must mean I’m trustworthy.”

“Yes.” The word came out with a touch of wariness.

He propped his elbows on the counter and leaned in. “And that means I always get the girl.”

She pursed her lips and slid her plate away. “Not necessarily. It means you have patience, take your time, and are always a gentleman.”

“Two out of three ain’t bad,” he drawled.

Her eyes widened, but she rallied. “Oh, I forgot the last quality. You’re nice.”

Cal chuckled. The way she emphasized the word was a direct challenge. “I heard nice guys finish last. I like to come in first.”

“That ridiculous philosophy was constructed by a bunch of popular teenage girls who got obsessed with the bad-boy phenomenon. They weren’t mature enough to see that emotional torture and pain does not reflect success in relationships. Nice guys get the real women because they have staying power.”

“You date a lot of nice guys, Morgan?”

Her gaze dropped as if she needed distance. “Sure.”

“Any of them finish first with you?”

She jerked back. A flash of temper lit her eyes. “Yes,” she snapped. “In fact, I only date nice men. I’m past my experimental, yes-sir-may-I-have-another phase. I don’t like games or cheaters or liars. I don’t like men who have a Peter Pan syndrome or men who just want another notch in their bedpost.”

“Doesn’t leave much territory open, does it?”

She tightened her lips and stared at him hard. “Making fun of me?”

“Never.”

“Good. I think it’s time I say good night. Thank you for cooking. Thank you for the lovely evening.”

She was so proper and adorable, he couldn’t stop her. Yet. “You’re welcome.”

Morgan slid off the stool, took her plate and fork to the sink, and rinsed her hands. “Will you let me know what happened with the inspector tomorrow after speaking with Dalton?”

“Absolutely.”

She nodded and spun on her very smart kitten heel, making her way to the foyer. The dogs leaped from their beds to give her a hearty send-off. She knelt down, hugging each of them with an open affection that made him smile. This was a woman who needed more in her life. More friends. More animals.

More . . . sex.

Her smile was nervous and forced. “Thanks again.”

“Morgan?”

Her hand paused on the knob. “Yes?”

“What about my kiss?”

A tiny gasp burst from her lips. Cal straightened to his full height, slowly moving forward to close the distance between them. Her hand fell away from the door, and her back pressed against the hard frame. Stealing her space, he bracketed her body with his thighs, feet braced, hands on each side of her head so she was trapped. The leashed sexual tension between them whipped to life, and Cal soaked in the waves of old-fashioned lust and hunger between man and woman. An ancient dance that would never go extinct. His dick swelled, and his skin grew hot and tight, and Cal scented the heady smell of female arousal. Oh, yeah. Morgan Raines was not feeling very nice herself at this moment.

“What are you doing?”

He ran one finger down her smooth cheek. Her lower lip trembled slightly, but her chin tilted in pure stubbornness. Amusement touched his voice. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“Trying to take payment for dinner, Charming? Aren’t we past that?”

She was trying to needle him, but it wouldn’t work tonight. He wanted her sweetness and light and honesty tonight. His senses screamed it was time to take what he wanted. “I don’t want to play games with you, Morgan. I want to kiss you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s complicated. I already explained this.”

Cal pressed a kiss to her temple. Smoothed back the silkiness of her silvery hair, which smelled like wildflowers. Her body shook so slightly, if he wasn’t close, he would’ve never caught it. Her muscles tightened in a grip that told him she was trying to fight her body’s natural response to him.

“I think it’s quite simple. This is separate from our business contract. We can keep this private if you’d like or scream we’re together from the rafters. I’m still going to be a hard-ass, and you’ll still be a pain in the butt. But I swear to God, Morgan Raines, if I don’t kiss you now and take you to bed, it may become the biggest regret of my life. And I’ve had enough of them to last me a lifetime.” He lowered his head. His gaze locked with hers. Her breath came in choppy gasps, and as if she couldn’t fight it, her fingers clasped his shoulders and hung on. Satisfaction shot through him, and the need to claim her for his raged in his blood, dulling every other thought.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumb pressed against her lush pink lips. “I do. Now open your mouth for me, baby, and let me in.”

His mouth took hers.

chapter fourteen

Goodness gracious.

Morgan knew the kiss was coming. She prepared herself for the sensual assault like bracing her body for a war, ready for the pleasure but focused on keeping enough control to feel safe. A good-night kiss wasn’t a terrible thing. Besides, she’d been dying to experience his mouth on hers once more. Even their banter seemed like foreplay, all roads leading to this one kiss. Morgan could handle it.

His body and spicy scent surrounded her. A little moan escaped her throat as she hung on, allowing the complete possession of her mouth and shuddering with pleasure. Strong white teeth nipped at her bottom lip, demanding entry, and his tongue slid home with no hesitation or apology.