“Seriously, Bash. I didn’t pop over for you to feed me breakfast and then clean up after me.” She hip-checked him and shoved him out of the way of the sink.

“Fine. I’m going to go grab a quick shower while you do that.”

“Okay.”

She looked down at the dog, who raised her head when Bash left the room. Lou tracked his movements, then looked up at Chelsea. Obviously happy to have someone in the kitchen with her, she went back to sleep.

“You sure are cute,” Chelsea said, going back to the dishes. “You know, I always thought I wanted a big dog, like a Labrador or a golden retriever. Maybe even a Great Dane, though those dogs are pretty big. I’d need a huge house for a dog that size. Anyway, I never wanted a little dog. I thought they’d be too noisy and high-strung. But you? You seem kind of mellow, Lou.”

After loading the dishes in the dishwasher and laying the clean pans in the dish rack to dry, she bent down to swipe her hands over the sleeping dog. “And you sure have taken to Bash in a hurry, haven’t you? That says a lot about the guy, doesn’t it?”

The dog slumbered peacefully. God, she was cute.

“Though he still has a lot of marks against him on my list. Not that I’d consider him, anyway.”

“What list, Chelsea?”

Her head shot up and she saw Bash leaning against the doorway in the hall. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, with his hair still damp from his shower.

And he’d obviously heard her talking to the dog about her list.

Dammit.

Chapter 5

Chelsea straightened. “So, thanks for breakfast. I should be going now.”

He walked into the kitchen and grasped her wrist, his fingers on one very fast racing pulse.

“What list¸ Chelsea?”

There was something about her that got to him in the most basic of ways. He dated a lot of women, and typically not for long. He’d known Chelsea for a lot of years, but she wasn’t the type of woman he went out with. First, he figured she was high maintenance, with her fancy clothes and her high-heeled shoes and her ideas about men. They just didn’t mesh.

But there was chemistry between them—something he’d definitely been noticing a lot more in the past several months. And the way her pulse ticked up and her eyes dilated, and the way she licked her lips whenever he got close?

Yeah, she noticed it, too.

Plus, she had a fiery personality, and he knew damn well that would translate to a spitfire in bed. He couldn’t deny he wouldn’t mind experiencing a little of the wildcat Chelsea in bed.

But he’d garnered enough from the conversations she’d had with her friends at the bar to know she was looking for a relationship. And that was the one thing he wasn’t at all interested in. He didn’t mind dating the same woman for a while, but he always made it clear he wasn’t into anything permanent. Being married once had taught him an awful lot about what not to do. He wasn’t ready for another round of bruised emotions and battered hearts. He was better off keeping things light and simple between him and women.

But Chelsea? He couldn’t seem to stop himself from teasing her. After all, they weren’t dating. They were just friends, and had been for a long time.

So when she didn’t answer his question, he had to press the issue.

“You were talking to my dog about your list. And the fact that I don’t meet the criteria.”

“I said no such thing. You misheard me. I was talking about my grocery list.”

Now he was really curious, because she sure as hell hadn’t been talking about him and food in the same sentence. “I don’t think so. You said I still have marks against me on your list, and you wouldn’t consider me anyway. So what list is this? The one you were making at the bar yesterday?”

She looked down at where he had hold of her wrist. He let her go, and she went into the living room to grab her purse.

He followed.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just start making things up. Like maybe you’re making up a list of men you’d like to help you make a baby.”

She stopped and turned to him, her eyes wide. “I do not need any man to help me make a baby.”

He scratched the side of his nose and slanted a grin at her. “Well, yeah, you kind of do.”

In answer, she rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. I’m not trying to have a baby right now, Bash.”

“Then why don’t I qualify for your list?”

She huffed in a breath of frustration. “None of your business.”

“It is my business if my name is on it.”

“That’s just it. Your name is not on it. It could never be on it.”

He stepped in closer. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“I’d prefer not to say.”

“So back to my idea about you finding a man to make a baby with …”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Bash.”

“I’m only trying to help, Chelsea. Not that I’m going to give you a baby, but I know a lot of guys …”

He liked seeing that fire in her eyes, the one that turned her emerald green eyes dark.

“This is ridiculous. But fine. You’re not on the list because you’re not my idea of the perfect man.”

His brows rose. “You made a list of the perfect man? You know the perfect guy doesn’t exist, right?”

“Of course he does.”

“You’ve met him.” He didn’t like the way his gut tightened at the thought.