Page 25 of Breaking All The Rules
“And four older sisters.”
Bea blinked. Four older sisters? No wonder the guy had taken her…quirks in stride. He was clearly used to being around women.
“Two live in Wyoming now. One in Delaware. The other lives three counties over.”
There was that soft affection again.
“You miss the ranch?” she asked as she nibbled more sedately at the pie, trying to make it last.
“Hardly.” He grinned. “I still live there. Moved back home when I left Denver last year.”
Bea stopped chewing for a split second. What? Oh no. Oh dear God, no. “You live with your parents?”
“Yes.”
If that didn’t scream younger man, Bea had no idea what did. God…she was lusting over a guy who still lived at home with Mom and Dad.
What was wrong with her?
“So does my brother and his wife, Jill. The ranch is big enough for all of us, and I’m able to lend a hand around the place.”
Clearly it sounded like the most natural thing in the world for Austin, but it was just the bucket of cold water she needed. “I see.”
She bit into the pie again, not really tasting it anymore. Well, she had started this conversation to distract her from Austin Cooper eating pie, and it had certainly achieved its goal.
“I especially like the laundry detergent Mom uses and the way she irons my work pants and still cuts the crusts off my sandwiches when she fixes my lunch.”
Bea blinked. “Right.” His mother still ironed his clothes and made his lunch?
Suddenly he burst into laughter, slapping his thigh and doing that hand-splayed-across-his-chest thing again. “Oh my God, you should see your expression.” He laughed some more and pointed at her face. “You look like you don’t know whether to be outraged or disgusted.”
Right now, as a cooling surge of relief hit her system, Bea was just grateful. More than she wanted to admit for a woman who wasn’t supposed to be invested in Austin Cooper and what he did and didn’t do. His mother could still tuck him in at night and kiss his boo-boos better for all she cared.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Very funny. So you don’t live at home?”
“Oh, no, I do live on the ranch. But I have my own cabin and wash and iron my own clothes. And fix my own lunch. In fact, I’m quite handy in the kitchen.”
He was looking at her as if waiting for praise for his stunning example of modern masculinity. Which made him shit out of luck. “What? You want me to throw you a parade because you know how not to starve to death?”
“Hell no.” He laughed. “I was just thinking you might like to come to dinner one night so I can impress you with my prowess.”
Aaaand they were back to the flirting and the innuendo. Because for damn sure, he wasn’t just talking about his cooking prowess. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know how that would go down, holed up in a rustic cabin with Austin at his most flirty and charming, seducing her with food and the way he said Beatrice like it finished with an S. Or several of them.
Beatrisss.
“And ruin my reputation as the town hermit?” she quipped.
He laughed, and the way it brushed against all Bea’s erogenous zones was decidedly wicked. The man had a very busy laugh. Glancing at the last couple of mouthfuls of pie balancing on her fingertips, she pushed it in his direction again. “Here. Last bit for you.”
“Nah.” He waved it away. “All yours.”
“Can’t, I’m stuffed full.” Which was true—it had been an enormous slice, and he looked like the kinda guy who was a bottomless pit with all that muscle mass and his twenty-five-year-young metabolism. “And it would be a crime to waste it.”
He shook his head. “Beatriss, that would be a sin.”
And then, instead of reaching for the remaining pie with his hand, like she’d expected, he leaned in again, opened his lips, and took it with his mouth. Bea’s breath caught in her throat as the tip of his tongue swept over the pads of her fingers, followed by hot, wet suction as he slowly pulled away and her fingers slid from his mouth.
It was an utterly filthy, low-down move.
