I let my arms fall to my sides since he was no longer facing me and shifted awkwardly on my bare feet. “Why are you cooking me dinner, Zeb? I thought we agreed that we were going to keep things strictly professional from here on out. You in my kitchen has nothing to do with your case.”

He turned back around with a wooden spoon in his hand and my mouth watered at the sight. It hardly had anything to do with the thick tomato sauce that was clinging to the surface. “We didn’t agree on shit. I asked you if you wanted to go on a date, you said no even though you wanted to say yes, and then you ran away. So I decided instead of going on a date I would bring the date to you.” His dark eyebrows shot upward and a sexy grin tilted up the corners of his mouth. “It was nice of you to dress for the occasion.”

I shook my head at him but didn’t bother to try to cover myself up again. I liked the way his eyes got darker and darker the longer he looked at me. It made me warm all over, and that was a feeling I wanted to wrap around myself and never let go of. I pointed a finger between the two of us as he stuck the spoon in his mouth and winked at me. “We aren’t doing this.” I wanted to sound stern and definitive. I didn’t. I sounded wistful and sad.

“It’s already done, Sayer.” He turned and put the spoon on the stove and I watched him crank the heat off. When he turned back around he prowled toward the island in the kitchen that separated us and narrowed his gaze on mine. “You let me in, just a little bit, but I’m a big guy, Say. I have no problem shoving the door all the way open. Now you have two choices: we can sit down and eat this awesome spaghetti I just made . . . clothing optional, or we can go to bed . . . clothing not optional.” His eyebrows snapped low over his mesmerizing eyes and a muscle twitched in his cheek under his beard. “I’m good with either one as long as you realize the second option is happening regardless.”

His words made me quake like the earth was shifting, like the ground wasn’t solid, like all the things that kept me anchored and secure had suddenly broken loose and become insignificant. No one had ever pursued me. No one had ever chased me. No one had ever stuck with me after I pushed them away because I was really, really good at freezing people out. The men in my life were practical, found through convenience or placed there by my father. I dated them because I was supposed to, because it was easy.

But not Zebulon Fuller. He was here, in my kitchen, looking like he was ready to fight not only me but whatever else I might throw in his path. I put a hand to my chest and tried to hold it steady. My heart and my mind wavered forever at war but my body always agreed with him . . . it was done.

“I tried to explain to you why this won’t ever work out between us, Zeb. I had a long day at work and I don’t have the energy to fight you on top of it. Do you think I enjoyed telling you that, that I like being the kind of girl who knows that she’s going to end up hurting a really nice guy? It makes me feel terrible, but it’s true, and it’s easier for me to head you off at the pass than it is for both of us to crash and burn later on. Why collide when we can walk away uninjured?” I wanted to choke on the words.

“That’s your truth, Say. It isn’t mine. Neither of us knows what is going to happen beyond this moment.”

His expression turned thunderous as he leaned forward and braced his arms on the counter. His biceps bulged and the fabric of his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders. He was so powerful, so big in my space. He really had forced his way inside and I had no way to get him out. I knew that the hole that would be left behind if I did manage to exorcise him from my life would be unfillable and infinite.

“My truth is that I like the woman you are with me and I like the woman you are in court. I like the woman you are with your brother and the way you fought to be his family. I like the woman I first met at the Bar that didn’t judge me when I told her I had been to prison. I like the woman that lets a scared young woman use her house as a sanctuary and leaves a bright red wall in her kitchen to make that same young woman happy. I like the woman who looks at my son and sees that he is everything and is willing to fight for him just because I asked her to. My truth is that you could never be anything other than fascinating and amazing, Sayer, and I fucking hate that you think you are anything else than all of that. So again you have two options, dinner or bed, which one do you want to pick?”

Was there really any choice, after all those heart-wrenching and soul-stretching words he had just thrown at me? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My vision narrowed and all I could see was the glimmer of jade and the pulse at the base of his throat making the ink that lived there jump. My fingers curled into a fist on my chest and I blinked once.

“Bed . . . but dinner smells really good, so I want that, too . . . but later.” My voice was whisper thin, but there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in it. I wanted him. I wanted to be the person he had just described. I wanted to be more than I typically felt like I was. There was only warmth and anticipation that sizzled and popped bright and hot under my skin as he prowled around the big island and stalked toward me. He kept coming until the tips of his boots were touching my naked toes and I sighed when his rough fingers reached up and tangled in my hair on either side of my head.

“I would tell you where the bedroom is, but you already know.” I sounded breathless and not at all like me . . . well, the me I usually was. I totally sounded like the me I was when I got within touching distance of this persistent and hard man. The me that was taking over more and more of my life.

“Doubt we’re gonna make it to the bed, Say.” He growled the words low in his throat and his hands tightened on the sides of my head. My nipples pulled tight and ached as they hit the lacy fabric of my bra. I put my hands on his lean hips and let my half-naked body absorb the heat that seemed to effortlessly emanate from his enormous frame.

“Oh.” The word feathered across my lips and they made his eyes twinkle and that smile that transformed him from burly to sexy flash across his face.

“I like it when you say that. I like it better when you moan it when I’m buried deep inside of you and you’re squeezing me tight.”

My insides fluttered and I felt my eyes widen. “Zeb . . . the things you say.” I bit my lip and looked up at him from under my lashes. “I don’t know what to do with that.” Because his words made me feel . . . feel so many things, and I couldn’t stop the rush of emotion. I was turned on but it was more than that. I felt desired. I felt wanted. I felt needed. I felt valued. I felt worthy . . . I felt loved.