“There was a time when I hoped I would get married and have kids.” She opened the refrigerator and stared inside for a minute before closing the door and addressing him with a frown. “You don’t have any junk food. Guess we’re not as alike as I thought.”
“I have sweets, but I keep them hidden,” he said. “You hoped you would have kids? Past tense?”
“Well, I have to be realistic. I’m thirty-three. My chances of getting married are going down all the time.” She opened a cabinet and shut it. Then another. “How can you hide the sweets? You’re the only person who lives here, so you know where they are.”
“Yes, but I make them hard to get to, so I won’t eat them all the time,” he said. “You could always adopt.”
“I’ve no desire to be a single mom.” She looked inside another cabinet. “Where are the sweets?”
“My stash is low. I think I’m down to one bag of dark chocolate.”
“Perfect. Where is it?”
“It’s a secret.”
“We’re married,” she said. “We shouldn’t have secrets from each other.”
“But this secret is for your own good.”
She grunted, her lower lip pushing forward in an adorable pout.
“Why don’t we both eat something healthy, and then I’ll bring out the chocolate?”
“You’re as bad as my sister.” Her eyes rolled up until he could see white at the bottoms. “Fine, I’ll gnaw on some vegetables and swallow a kale-yogurt shake if I can have some chocolate afterward.”
“I’ve got something a lot better than that. How about chicken pot roast?” He pulled an aluminum pan out of the refrigerator and stuck it in the oven. “I pay one of Juanita’s friends to cook for me. She makes frozen meals for the week and delivers them on Sundays. That reminds me, I need to let her know I’ll have company next week. Mom’s going to want to cook for us most nights, I’m sure.”
“I’ll eat this, for now.” Rylie snatched a lone peppermint from a tray on the counter. “I hope your mother doesn’t expect me to cook. The only things I can make are cookies and zucchini bread.”
“I promise… Mom will love you.”
“Hope you’re right.” She peered into the oven, as if she could make their dinner cook faster. “Wouldn’t the microwave be faster?”
“Yes, but this gives us time to talk about that thing we were discussing earlier today…” Hopefully, he could coax her into a dialogue.
“What thing?” she responded, but the color in her cheeks told him she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Are you willing to kiss me on the lips?” He had to press the point, in part because of his parents, but also because she seemed to be withdrawing from him. All day, she’d practically bumped into walls to avoid touching him.
“I guess so.” She looked like she’d rather be beaten than kiss him.
“That face you just made isn’t helping my ego.”
Her arms folded. “A hot billionaire with a fragile ego? I don’t buy it.”
“You think I’m hot?”
“I think you’re fishing for compliments.”
“I don’t understand the big deal about us kissing on the lips a couple of times.”
“This relationship is supposed to be platonic,” she said. “Maybe you should look up the definition.”
“Okay, I will.” Jarrett pulled out his phone and searched for the word, pleased with what he found. “Here it is. Quote. Intimate and affectionate, but not sexual.”
Her hands planted on her hips, her blonde hair bobbing as she stomped her foot. “Is that really what it says?”
“Afraid so,” he said, with a triumphant grin. “I’d say a kiss qualifies perfectly.”
“It depends on how you do it,” she said. “It could be sexual.”
He produced a convincing shocked expression. “Is that what you want?”
“No!” she shouted.
Jarrett cut his eyes toward Gabe, who’d stopped eating, his eyes wide. Rylie’s face fell when she saw him.
“Sweetie, it’s okay.” She hurried back to his side, patting his back. “Mama and Papa are just playing.”
“Maybe he’d feel better if we kissed.” Jarrett winced at her ominous glare. “Yikes, I think I might be afraid to go to sleep tonight.”
“At this point, your best chance of being alive in the morning is to tell me where the chocolate is.”
He lifted his hands in the air. “I give up. It’s in the pantry. Bottom shelf. Behind the garbage bags. You should probably eat it in there where Gabe can’t see you.”
Jarrett sat down across from Gabe, who was finishing the last of his PB&J. “Are you still hungry, buddy? You want something else to eat?”
Rylie emerged from the pantry with a satisfied look on her face, and Jarrett wondered if he could reproduce the same expression. It felt like a challenge.
