Van picked up a thin slice of baguette, adding some cheese and another olive and held it up for me. He leaned on the counter, watching me eat it.
“I’m glad you left that job, Liv. You’re right where you should be.”
“At BAM, you mean?”
The timer on the oven pinged, and he grabbed the oven mitts.
“At BAM, yes. With me at BAM,” he added with a wink. “Especially with me.”
I had to smile.
Liv
“That was the best lasagna I’ve ever eaten.”
Van dipped his head in acknowledgment as he picked up his wine. “It’s one of my favorites. Plus, I can make a huge pan and eat well for a week.”
“You, ah, do have a healthy appetite.”
He threw back his head in laughter. “That’s being polite. My mom always says I ate them out of house and home as a teenager. To be honest, it hasn’t changed much. I burn it off fast and I always seem to be hungry.”
I couldn’t help but eye him in appreciation. His body was amazing. Strong, thick, and powerful. His muscles rippled as he moved, and I loved watching him. He was very sexy.
He met my gaze, one eyebrow lifting in amusement. “See something you like, Livvy?”
I tried not to be embarrassed at staring, but I failed. Van caught my hand and lifted it to his mouth. He pressed a long kiss to my knuckles and laid my hand on his chest.
“Stare away, baby. Whatever you see when you look at me is yours.”
“Mine?” I squeaked.
“All yours. If my body gives you pleasure, stare away. I like knowing I please you.”
The words were out before I could stop them. “Oh, you please, all right.”
He leaned closer, draping his arm across the back of my chair, tugging me close. “I aim to please you a lot tonight, Liv. You up for that?”
I rested my hand on his thigh, meeting his open, honest gaze. His dark eyes were lit from within with a warmth and sincerity I found appealing. His candor was refreshing. He didn’t play games or say things he didn’t mean. He wanted me, and he wanted me to know that. I slid my hand farther up his leg, running my fingers over the growing bulge.
“Certainly feels like you are,” I murmured, tracing the ridge of him under the denim.
He groaned low in his chest. “Unless you want to be dessert, I suggest you stop and let me get coffee and the cupcakes I picked up for you.”
My hand stilled. “Cupcakes?” I hesitated. “What kind of cupcakes?”
He chuckled, lifted my hand from his leg and brushed his mouth over my knuckles. “Cockblocked by baked goods.” He kissed me, his teasing tone letting me know he wasn’t upset. “White with vanilla frosting from Joan’s Bakery. I’ve seen how territorial you get over those at the office. Didn’t take me long to figure out those were your favorite.”
I slid my hand back to his leg, squeezing his cock lightly. “So is this.”
He leaned close, brushing his lips over mine. “Guess what, Liv? You get to have your cake and eat it too. You get both tonight. In fact, I got a dozen cupcakes. You get both all weekend.”
I met his intense gaze with one of my own. “Good.”
Together we cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. Van’s kitchen was well-equipped and organized—much the same as the rest of his house. I gazed around the open concept of the main floor.
“You have such a great place. I love the layout.”
“I did a lot of work to it when I moved in. Like so many older houses, it was a bunch of little rooms. I knocked down some walls and opened it up.”
“It’s lovely.”
He braced his arms on the counter, looking around the room. “I like it. It’s got three big bedrooms, a dry basement, and the holy grail of all wish lists for homeowners in Toronto.”
My brow furrowed. “Which is?”
He chuckled. “A backyard and a garage. There’s a spot to park my truck and a place to sit in the summer. Both of which are hard to get here.”
He flicked on a light and opened the patio door. I stepped onto the deck, looking around, curious. Small, but well laid-out, the backyard had a deck with a built-in gazebo that offered privacy and shade from both the sun and neighbors. A small footpath led to the garage. A tall fence surrounded the yard. There was even a garden—tiny but flourishing. “What a great space.”
He stepped beside me. “Yeah. I planned on adding a hot tub in the corner here, but I seem to be too busy at work to get around to it.” He indicated the garden. “My mom helped me plant that. She loves gardening. Good thing, or it would be overgrown pretty fast. I never have time to work on it these days either.”
“Bentley does keep us busy.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Are you worried about this new company we have to work with?” I asked. “Do you know anything about them?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I checked them out, and the rep is solid. If Jordan is okay with them, it’s fine. It’s really a simple job for them. Demo and rebuild to our plans. As long as they follow orders, it’s good. I don’t have to like them, just work with them. And they’ll only be there for the first part of the project. As other projects finish, I’ll bring in our own people, then you can work your magic.”
“I guess we’ll meet them on Tuesday.” Jordan had scheduled a meeting for us all to meet in the morning. It would be a planning session, and all the details would be hammered out. Once it happened, the project would begin.
Van nodded, rolling his shoulders, a small grimace crossing his face. He had done the same motion a few times during dinner. “Yep.” Before I could speak again, he wound his arm around my waist. “No more work talk. The only thing I want to concentrate on this weekend is you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Then let’s start with cupcakes and go from there.”
“Okay.”
“You missed a bit.”
“Pardon?”
Van smirked and tapped the edge of my mouth. “Icing. You missed a bit of icing.”
“Oh.” I licked at the edge of my mouth. “Can’t have that.”
He laughed. The cupcakes were delicious. Light and fluffy, with mounds of rich buttercream piled on top. Van was amused as I instructed him the proper way of eating them.
“You break them in half and turn the top over,” I explained, demonstrating. “It’s a cupcake sandwich. You get icing in every bite!”
Still, due to the large amount of the sweet frosting, I got it on my face. It never failed. Van shook his head, edging closer, lowering his face to mine. “You still missed,” he breathed. “I’ll have to get it for you.”
His tongue touched the corner of my mouth, sweeping along the edge of my lips. He slid his hand up my neck, pulling me close as he dipped inside. We kissed—long, unhurried kisses that tasted of sweet vanilla and promises of what would happen later.
Until he flinched and eased back, another grimace crossing his face.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Van, what is it? You keep grimacing.”