He throws his head back and laughs, then pushes his empty plate away and leans his elbows on the table as he sips his wine, watching me with the look of a man who is confident in his own skin and enjoys watching the woman he’s with.

I wish I had his confidence.

“Are you finished?”

“Oh my God, I’m so full.” I push the plate away and lean back in the chair. “It was delicious. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s take the wine and go sit on the couch.” He rises, grabs the bottle and his glass, and motions for me to follow him. I can’t help but notice how spectacular his ass looks in those jeans.

I flip the switch on the gas fireplace in the corner of the family room off the kitchen, then settle into one end of a long, soft sofa, pulling my bare feet up under me. Ty sits a few feet away, close enough to touch me. He sits facing me, one leg pulled up, and leans his elbow on the back of the couch, his head resting in his hand, and watches me with happy gray eyes.

“Thanks for coming by,” I murmur softly, and sip my wine.

“Please don’t let your phone go dead again. I’ll worry.” He exhales deeply, watching me for my response.

“I’ll plug it in.” I lean my head against the couch. Ty refills my wineglass, earning a mock glare from me. “I guess I won’t be working any more tonight.”

“Something tells me you could use a good night’s sleep.” He fills his own glass before setting the bottle on the floor.

“Tell me something,” I begin, my confidence bolstered by the alcohol.

“Anything.” He smiles.

“What do you have up your sleeve?”

“What are you talking about?” He frowns.

I shrug and look down into my glass. “Why are you being so nice to me, Ty? People don’t do things like this just for the hell of it.”

He pauses as his narrowed gaze travels over my face, not even bothering to pretend that he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. He looks angry for a moment and rubs his fingers over his lips in agitation, and I can’t help but wonder what I did wrong.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. . . .”

“You didn’t offend me, Lo. Is it so unbelievable that I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and spend some time with you?”

“But why?” I ask again, confused. “What do you want from me?”

He stills, looking lost. “I don’t want anything.”

“Everyone wants something,” I reply dryly. “Trust me.”

He continues to watch me like I’m some kind of science experiment. “Lauren, the only thing I want from you is you.”

My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

He shakes his head and chuckles before taking a sip of his wine. “I’ve been attracted to you for a while now, Lo.”

“So you want to fuck me,” I surmise with disgust. “We could have avoided this whole seduction scene, Ty. Thanks but no thanks.” I move to rise, but he catches my arm, pulling me back to my ass.

“What the fuck?” He’s pissed. “This wasn’t a fucking seduction scene, it was me doing something nice for someone I like. And I didn’t say I wanted to fuck you, although don’t get me wrong, I do. I want to get to know you, Lauren.”

“You want to date me?” I squeak.

“I believe that’s what I’ve been saying.” He’s completely exasperated, and I can’t help but smile at him.

“Why now? Is it because of the books?” My heart sinks at the prospect that he’s the first person in my life that I’ve confided in about the books and now he’s just interested because of my newfound success, but it makes sense.

I’ve never had anyone in my life that was here without wanting something from me.

He scowls again and replies coldly, “I came here before I had any idea about your books, and now you’re pissing me off. Don’t ever insult either of us like that again.”

I swallow hard and cringe. “Why now?” I whisper.

“It wouldn’t have been right to approach you before, Lo. You had lost your parents and your marriage. You were sad, and hitting on married women just isn’t my style.”

I hadn’t realized that I looked so sad on the outside, and that makes me just a little bit more self-conscious.

“To be honest, I just don’t want to stay away anymore.” My eyes find his again and he offers me a half grin. “I would very much enjoy getting to know you better, Lauren. If that’s okay with you?”

I bite my lip and watch his finger glide around the rim of his glass.

“Lauren,” he whispers.

“I’d like that,” I reply softly.

He watches me lazily, sipping his drink, his temper calming. Finally, he sets his wine aside and takes my hand in his once again.

“You hold my hand a lot.”

“You have beautiful hands. Does it bother you?”

“No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Lo?” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I want to kiss you so bad it hurts.”

I gasp and watch him with wide eyes as he reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, then gently runs his finger down my cheek. The air between us is full of anticipation.

“What’s stopping you?”

I bite my lip, waiting for his response. He pulls my lip free with his thumb and brushes it along the tender flesh. Finally, he leans in, moving exquisitely slowly. He cups my cheek in his hand and lowers his face to mine. His lips nibble at the side of my mouth, making my eyes flutter closed as my hand glides tentatively up his arm, over his shoulder, and into his thick, black hair.