Divorced, Desperate, and Delicious

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Chase gripped the phone. Betrayal tightened his chest. He had no reason to expect her loyalty, yet for some reason he had expected it. Hell, he’d more than just expected it, he’d needed to have someone believe in him right now.

Her voice sounded over the line again. “Please believe me. I’m fine, Sue. I just wanted you to know that I’m excited about the editor’s letter.”

Sue? She’d called her friend. She hadn’t called 911 to report that a lunatic had invaded her home. So she did believe him. The heaviness in his chest evaporated and his thoughts flipped to their shared kiss. Although brief, it had left him hungry for more. Much more.

“I know how much this means to you,” Lacy’s voice came again. “Now I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later. Bye.”

Before he could hang up, the connection went silent. Had she heard him pick up the line? He stood, then walked down the hall. If she asked him to go, he would do it. He hadn’t a clue where he’d go, but he’d do it.

He stopped short when he spotted her in the kitchen. With her head poked inside the freezer, her shapely backside encased in gray sweats protruded outward. His next thought curled around the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties. The image of the silky slip of material that had fluttered at his feet whisked through his mind and hung there like a piece of forbidden fruit.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” She glanced back and over her shoulder, obviously having heard his steps. “I’ve got potatoes that I could bake, and some steaks.”

He stared at her, his sexual hunger growing. And with only thin gray sweats covering his growing part, she would know all too soon about his appetite if he didn’t get himself under control.

“What?” she asked, as if noting his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, and tried to shake the sexual pull he felt from just being near her. “You believe me now, don’t you?” He almost mentioned picking up the phone line, but decided to let her bring it up if she wanted to.

She hesitated for a second. “Yes. I believe you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “And I’m sorry about handcuffing you. I didn’t know what else to do. But . . . it wasn’t a smart thing to do. Your wrists okay?”

“Fine.” She buried her head back in the freezer. “You want a steak or not? Because I’m starving and if I only cook one, I’m not sharing. I’m an only child. Never learned that sharing thing.”

Her words, the lightness in her voice, told him she didn’t hold a grudge.

“I was willing to share my dinner,” he teased.

“Yeah, well . . .” Her bottom wiggled. “Could I tempt you with some milk bones or kitty chow?” She glanced over her shoulder, a smile on her lips.

She could tempt him all right. Her smile could win awards, and that perky backside . . . “Steaks sound good. Thanks.”

Grabbing a couple of packages, she stuck them into the microwave. “Steaks, defrost. Five minutes,” she said to the box.

“It not only speaks, but it takes orders, huh?” he asked.

She looked up, the teasing look reflected in her eyes. “Yeah.”

He watched her, his curiosity growing, and questions about her formed on the tip of his tongue. The phone rang. He looked at the portable phone he had carried from the bedroom.