No Turning Back (Man-Maid 1)

w, huh?”

Jensen glanced at her with the same indulgent smile he’d bestowed on Dozer. “Yep. I fully admit it. I think he’s found a new friend.” Jensen’s blue-eyed gaze heated as he murmured, “Smart dog.”

“I’m a sucker for animals.”

Jensen refilled her nearly empty glass of wine and asked, “So, why is it a pretty lady like yourself hasn’t been snatched up by now?”

Marquetta stiffened, unwilling to get into the uncomfortable territory of her dating life—or lack thereof. “I’ve just been busy with work, I suppose,” she said evasively. “I don’t have a lot of time for a personal life.”

He squinted. “Now, why do I get the feeling you aren’t telling me the whole truth?”

Jensen stood and began getting out two black plates and silverware. He placed them on the table, then leaned against the counter. “I get the feeling you’ve been in a rough relationship. Am I right?”

Had she given off some sort of sad, victim-like vibe? “What makes you say that?”

“Well, there’s the fact that your brother showed up at Champagne’s and threatened me if I even thought about hurting you. Then when I was at your shop, both of them stared daggers at me. That’s not typical brotherly protectiveness, in my opinion.”

He turned and opened the oven door, then began covering the manicotti with the red sauce before he tucked the pan back in and closed the door. And he did it all bare-chested. Marquetta wasn’t sure which she was hungrier for, the sexy man or the tasty manicotti.

As he turned toward her, he said, “So, were you?”

“What?” She’d already lost the trail of their conversation. Having a gorgeous, half-naked man who could cook did that to a woman.

“Have you been in a bad relationship?”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. When I was in college, I dated a man named Sheldon. I was naïve and thought he was my one true love. Unfortunately he disagreed, and it ended badly.”

“I see,” he replied. “Seems we all have at least one horror story, huh?”

“When was yours?”

“Mine was in high school with a girl named Crissy.”

She glommed on to the opportunity to learn more about him. “It ended badly?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he stared at her. “She tried to commit suicide.”

Her gaze shot wide. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

Jensen rubbed his chin and said, “It was right after I tried to break up with her. She’d started talking about marriage and white picket fences. Kids, the whole lot. Hell, we were only seventeen, and I wasn’t ready to think about all that. When I told her I wanted to take a break, she went home and swallowed a bottle of pills. If her mom hadn’t come home and found her, she would’ve died.”

“She must have been very troubled, Jensen. It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but I still carry the weight of it, even though it was years ago and she’s happily married and living in Florida now.”

Marquetta thought about Sheldon, about the loss of the baby. She still blamed herself for the miscarriage. As unfair as that was, she knew that was a big part of the reason she had trouble moving past it. “Guilt is a heavy thing, and it rarely goes away without a lot of hard work.”

“True.” The oven dinged, and he put on the oven mitts. “Now, let’s eat.”

“Good idea,” she said, hoping to get them past the weighty conversation. “I’m starving.”

He took up the steaming-hot pan from the oven, tenderly scooped out their manicotti and set them onto the plates. Marquetta’s nostrils flared and her stomach rumbled.

He smiled indulgently at her. “Ah, the growling of a gorgeous woman’s empty stomach is what every cook longs to hear.”

His eyes grew serious as he handed her the plate filled with aromatic cheese-filled shells. “Although I wouldn’t mind satisfying more than just your appetite.”

His words had her heart flip-flopping, but she so wasn’t going to respond to the flirtatious comment. Instead, they ate their meal and drank their wine in relative silence.