Page 135 of Howlin’ For You

“Did you make this, too?” I ask through my mouthful. I really should remember my manners.

He turns with two plates in his hands and walks over, depositing them on the table. “Yeah. I hope it’s okay.”

“Okay?” I swallow. “It’s perfect. Delicious. Magical. Fantastic.”

“My woman likes bread. Noted.”

My chest aches at the possessiveness in his tone. In his words. No one has ever really claimed me as theirs.

“Roasted chicken with assorted vegetables and baked potatoes,” he continues as he sits next to me. “I hope you like it.”

“It smells delicious. Thank you, Nick.” I squeeze his hand. “This means a lot to me.”

“I’ll make you dinner whenever you want, Izzy.”

I believe him. I trust him. With each bite of exquisite food, I build up my resolve. I’m going to take what I want tonight.

And what I want is Nick.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

NICK

Watching Izzy enjoy my cooking is much better than eating it.

The way she closes her eyes and moans with every bite is a symphony for the senses. Almost voyeuristic.

It gives me ideas of all the other things I’d love to watch her do.

With each passing moment, the tension mounts in the room until I swear it’s a tangible thing. Something I could grab and tug on like I want to do to her hair. I don’t know if she senses it the same way I do, or what it feels like for her.

With a wink, she takes a dainty sip of her wine.

She’s doing this on purpose, isn’t she? Fine, if she wants to play games, then I’ll drag this out as long as possible.

“You haven’t told me where you grew up,” I remark, slowing down the rate of my knife and fork. “Or where you live.”

She swallows, clearly surprised at the question. “I grew up in Issaquah, a few hours south of here. But I guess I currently live in Seattle.”

“I’ve only been down to Seattle once.” I lean back in my chair, watching the candlelight flicker in her eyes. “Do you enjoy living there?”

Are you anxious to go back?

She lifts one shoulder, causing the dress to shift and strain against her breasts. “I guess? It’s never really felt like home. Neither place did, actually.”

Hope ignites in my chest like a flame. If she’s never found her home, maybe that’s because it’s here with me.

“Anyway, I’m happy I’m here,” she continues after a beat. “I’m happy I answered that email. Happy I took the job. I’m happy I met Georgie…and I’m happy I met you.”

The flame of hope burns into an inferno. I rub my chest to make sure it’s not hot to the touch. “I’m happy I met you, too, Izzy.”

A light blush dusts the tops of her high cheekbones as her eyes dart down to her empty plate. “This was delicious, Nick. I don’t think anyone has ever made me dinner before.”

My chest rumbles with a growl at the thought of her on a date with anyone else. I have no right to be jealous of a time before she met me—and logically I’m not—but still. “I’m happy to be your first.”

Her blush lights up the rest of her face and neck.

Interesting.