Page 32 of Solitary Man

She giggled again, and I cursed. The woman had not a clue, none, what that did to me.

“No giggling,” I said, even as my gaze slid to her lovely rosebud mouth.

“I don’t giggle.”

“You do. Sounds like little bells.”

She blinked over at me, all wide-eyed and so pretty my dick got harder. “Really? And that’s a bad thing?”

“Makes me hard.” There was no point pretending otherwise.

“As far as I can tell, you’re always hard.”

“Yep.”

She giggled again.

“Riley,” I gritted out.

She giggled harder.

“Not helping, woman.”

“Okay, sorry. Where were we? That’s right…meat.” She made a little snorting sound, fighting another fit of giggles. Not only did that make my dick throb, it was cute as hell. “My favorite food is vegetarian lasagna.”

“Sounds disgusting.”

She cried in outrage, and I bit back another grin.

“It’s delicious. I’ll make it for you.”

I grunted.

“Now you’re just being rude.”

“Didn’t say anything, wife.”

“You grunt a lot…that was your ‘your cooking sucks, Riley’ grunt.”

“Nope.”

She twisted more in her seat. “Okay, what was it, then?”

“My ‘you can make it, but I ain’t eatin’ it’ grunt.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, you’ll eat it.”

I groaned. “Don’t talk about eating things, either.”

She bit her lips together again, but they were curling up at the sides. “We’ve circled back, haven’t we?”

I growled a warning.

“You know, to the ‘kissing it and making it better’ part of the conversation?”

“Didn’t need you to spell it out.”

“I know.” Now she wasn’t even trying to hide her grin.