Chapter Thirteen

Jonah

I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. Melanie’s bedroom was decorated in burgundy and ivory, with dark wood accents—just feminine enough without being too froufrou for a man’s taste. Her bathroom was off to the left, so I went in to take care of business. I looked in the mirror and couldn’t help a chuckle. I looked well and thoroughly fucked. And damn, I felt good.

Back in the bedroom, the zesty aroma of chicken and peppers wafted toward me. I pulled on my jeans and walked out, my feet and chest bare.

Melanie was standing in the kitchen wearing a short, silky green robe. God, she had great legs—long, lean, and shapely.

I gave her a whistle.

She turned. “Are you hungry?”

“I am now. Something smells great.”

“Thai basil chicken,” she said. “But don’t get too used to it. It’s takeout.”

Don’t get too used to it. Did that mean I wouldn’t be here for meals? Or did it mean it was takeout, so don’t get used to it, because normally she would be cooking? Hell, it could mean either. Right now, all I cared about was doing a little carbo-loading so I could get her back in the sack.

“Whatever it is, it smells great.” I inhaled.

Her small table was set for two, and takeout containers sat on what appeared to be fine linen. She had class, this one. She’d poured two glasses of wine and set two goblets of water by two plain white china plates. Elegant and feminine without being overstated. I liked this woman.

A lot.

“Go ahead and sit down. Help yourself.”

“I’ll wait for you,” I said.

“I’m right behind you.” She turned off the faucet, drying her hands quickly on a kitchen towel, walked a few strides, and sat down across from me at the table.

“I have no idea what you like. I hope Thai is okay.”

“I like anything. We’re big eaters in my family.”

“I’m sure you probably prefer beef, since you’re a beef rancher.”

“I eat beef all the time, Melanie. Chicken is great. I love Thai.”

“Well”—she cleared her throat—“don’t be shy. Please, help yourself.”

“Ladies first. Give me your plate.”

She looked at me oddly as she handed it to me. Was she not used to chivalry? There was a lot I didn’t know about Melanie Carmichael. I aimed to find it all out.

I gave her a healthy portion of chicken, brown rice, and a spring roll and handed the plate back to her.

“Thank you,” she said, flushing.

Oh, how I loved to make this one blush. Those raspberry cheeks bloomed as fresh as a pink rose.

I quickly served myself and then picked up my glass of wine. “To us.”

She blushed again, more red than pink this time. “Us?”

“Sure, why not? I’m here, you’re here, we just had some amazing sex, and now we’re sitting down to a nice dinner. To us.”

She timidly raised her glass and murmured, “To us,” not quite looking me in the eye.

I took a sip of the wine. “Zinfandel?” I asked.

“Well, yeah.” She smiled. “It’s sitting right there on the table.”

“I haven’t looked at the bottle yet.” I pulled it toward me and turned it to read the label. “So I got it right. Ryan would be proud of me.”

“Yes, he’s the wine connoisseur in your family.”

I chuckled. “You have me at a severe disadvantage, don’t you? You know a lot about my family and a lot about me from your sessions with Talon. I have a lot of catching up to do to find out as much about you.”

“Me? I’m an open book.”

I couldn’t help a loud laugh that time. “Melanie, an open book you’re not. You are so closed off, you’re not just a closed book. You’re shrink-wrapped. Tell me, what’s eating at you?”

She cast her gaze downward.

Knife in gut. I felt really bad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. After you made me dinner and everything.”

“Let’s eat. You don’t want your food to get cold, do you?”

Wow, she really was timid. And I thought I was closed off. I decided to leave it for now and just enjoy her company.

“This is good wine. I like a good Zin. I’ll bring you a bottle of Ryan’s Zin sometime. It’s great. He’s a master winemaker.”

She raised her eyes and met my gaze. Then she gave me a small smile. “I do enjoy a good bottle of wine.”

“Anything to get a smile out of you.” I smiled back. “You’re very beautiful when you smile.”

She closed her eyes, her long brown lashes lying against her creamy skin, and then opened them. Demurely.

My groin tightened again. She truly had no idea what she did to me, probably what she did to all men.

I took a bite of my chicken and decided to stop talking. Maybe then she would talk. But she seemed comfortable in silence. And the funny thing was, I was comfortable as well. Just being with her was comfortable. I didn’t feel like I had to make small talk. I loved that about her, because God, I hated small talk.

The food was good for takeout. I cleaned my plate in no time and helped myself to a second serving, first asking Melanie if she wanted any. She shook her head.

I topped off her wine glass and refilled mine. “You say you like a good bottle of wine. What’s your favorite?”

“I like all of it. Red and white. I guess I prefer red over white if I have to choose, but I like it all. My favorite of all is a good aged Cabernet Sauvignon.”

I nodded. “Yeah, Cab is great. I like wine too, but my drink of choice is a martini.”

She widened her eyes. Surely a martini couldn’t be that surprising. I cocked my head at her.

“That’s my drink of choice too. A martini. I mean, a real martini made with gin.”

I smiled. A woman after my own heart. “A vodka martini isn’t a martini.”

A broad grin split her face. “That’s exactly what I always say.”

“Well, Dr. Carmichael, I think we finally found something we have in common. Other than amazing sex.”

She blushed again. God, she was adorable.

“You know what I think?” I said.