Right Number, Wrong Girl

That wasn’t my problem, though.

My problem was that Sophie was wearing a hoodie and shorts that were a little too short for me to fully focus on what I was doing.

“What are you cooking?” She cocked her hip against the counter and leant forwards.

I peered over at her. “Salmon.”

“I like salmon.” She paused. “Are you going to kill me with it or no?”

“I’d prefer not to. I’m quite fond of you being alive.” I pulled a bottle of wine out of the bag and set it down in front of her.

“Salmon? Wine? Do you have candles in there, too, Romeo?”

I looked her dead in the eye and pulled out a bag of tealights.

Sophie glanced down at them and bit her lower lip to stop her smile forming. “Tealights.”

“It was all they had.” I snorted. “I figured you’d make a smartass comment, so here we are.”

“Shit. You know me too well.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I just know that you have a response for everything, so I covered my bases.”

“What if I didn’t for this?”

“I’d have made an excuse for why I had them.” I smirked and finished taking everything out of the bag, then balled it up. “Scoot over. You’re in the way.”

She shuffled a few steps away and reached up to pull out two wine glasses. “I assume you’re having one?”

“A small one,” I replied. “And I do need some to cook with.”

“The last time I drank a lot of wine around you, it ended badly. Don’t worry.”

“I disagree. I think it had a pretty good outcome in the end.” I rubbed the seasoning over the fish and put the lemon I’d already sliced on top, then washed my hands and covered the dish with foil.

Sophie pushed a small glass my way. “A pretty good outcome, really? This mess we’re in?”

“I like the mess we’re in.” My lips tugged it. “I find it to be mutually beneficial.”

“Mutually beneficial with an expiry date.”

“You’ve always got to put a dampener on the mood, haven’t you?”

“Just being realistic.”

I tossed the asparagus into the steamer and turned to her. “Can we pretend for one night that this doesn’t have to end? What do you think?”

She blinked at me, shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t know. I feel like that’s dangerous.”

“Everything we’re doing here is dangerous.” I took the glass from her and set it down carefully.

Sophie flattened her hands against my chest as I pulled her into me, and she gazed up at me with a sparkle in her eyes that tugged right at my heart.

She could bring it up all she liked.

She didn’t want this to have an expiry date either.

I didn’t need to be psychic to know that. I could see it in her eyes—in the way they darkened when it was brought up, how her lips turned down just enough that the sadness was undeniable.