Indulgent Pleasures

He hated that he put that emotion in her expressive eyes. He’d never been comfortable with people feeling sorry for him.

“Do you mind if I use your kitchen? I brought some stuff so I could fix you an early dinner.”

His stomach rumbled at her words. “Have at it. If you can’t find something just keep looking. The kitchen is pretty much fully stocked. I bought every pot, pan and gadget you can imagine when I renovated it.”

Why, he hadn’t been exactly sure. Not as if he was a great cook. He could throw something together when he had to but hell, he’d hardly been home so he’d rarely used the damn thing. It had given him comfort though, knowing the kitchen was ready to be utilized fully at a moment’s notice.

Not necessarily wanting to go there, he figured it had something to do with his dead grandmother and her love for cooking.

This time Stephanie’s smile was genuine. “Well then, I can’t wait to get in there. I haven’t cooked much lately and I really enjoy it.”

His gaze wandered over her and he noticed that she looked more casual than usual. She wore wide-legged jeans and a red and white striped fitted T-shirt. Her cheeks were pink, a natural flush versus blush since it appeared she wore no other makeup, not even lipstick. As normal, her hair was pulled back since she rarely wore it down. A trait that drove him nuts.

“Why don’t you ever wear your hair down?”

She stopped, seemingly startled by his abrupt question. Her wide-eyed gaze met his. “I don’t know. It’s always in my way. It’s easier to just throw it up in a ponytail.”

He stared at her, wondering if he should go there, wondering if he even had the right to do so. “I prefer it down. It’s so thick and pretty.”

Pressing her lips together, she dipped her head, a little sigh escaping her. “Even in pain and on bed rest you know how to throw on the charm.”

“I’m not trying to throw on the charm. I think your hair is beautiful.” He hoped he sounded earnest since he wasn’t giving her a line.

This woman made him want to be honest.

Her head lifted and her gaze met his once more. “Thank you.”

“Take out your ponytail.”

She grimaced. “If I do my hair will look all rumpled.”

“I don’t care.” He really didn’t.

Slowly she reached up behind her head and tugged the elastic from her hair. She shook her head, the shoulder-length dark locks tumbling all around her face and he noticed she was right. There was a slight ridge along her hair from the elastic holder.

It didn’t detract from her beauty though. He was still filled with the urge to run his fingers through her hair, test the silky smooth tresses.

“Does it look bad?” She appeared truly concerned as she ran a hand over her head as if to smooth it out.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, trying to control the urge to leap from the bed and wrap his arms around her. Bury his face in her hair and breathe deep.

Holy shit, he had it bad for this woman. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to embrace the feeling or run like hell from it.

She smiled, it lit up her entire face and she waggled her fingers at him. “I’ll come back in a few and check on you.”

“Sounds good.”

He watched her go, his chest hurting, his mind a whirlwind. Emotions surged through him, both incredibly powerful and amazing in their intensity.

Leaning back against the pillow, he closed his eyes and rubbed the heel of his hands over them. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do, what to think. He’d never experienced anything like this before and he’d always thought if he did, he’d know better and flee before he got caught in the trap.

But now, with Stephanie, he didn’t want to run from it. He wanted to spend even more time with her, get to know her, learn from her.

She actually gave him hope. Something he hadn’t felt in way too long.

* * *

Stephanie tucked her hair behind her ear and continued sautéing the mushrooms in shallots and garlic. She knew he liked Italian so she was making chicken marsala for dinner. Not only was it one of her favorite meals to eat but it was also a cooking specialty of hers.