Page 31 of A Smile Full of Lies (Secrets of Stonewood #1)

“If you keep cooking for me like this,” I murmured, “I might not let you.”

Her lips parted and her eyes flashed wide, like she hadn’t expected that.

Good. Because neither had I, and now that it had slipped out, I couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to, either.

Ros turned back toward the stove like she hadn’t just slayed me with something as simple as homemade minestrone.

I stepped back, and took the bowl over to the island, then settled myself there.

I saw a little of the tension leave her, as I gave her that bit of space.

I watched her from where I sat, still half in my work clothes, Armani jacket discarded over the back of the stool, sleeves rolled up, collar undone.

She hadn’t said much when I walked in, just blinked at me like I’d walked in shirtless again. But this time, it wasn’t my favorite pair of sweatpants doing damage.

“You okay?” I asked, watching her stir something that didn’t need stirring.

“Fine,” she said too fast. “You just… look good in a suit.”

I arched a brow.

“Too good,” she added under her breath.

I smiled slowly.

“Mmm. And here I thought my sweatpants were the problem.”

“They are,” she muttered, then turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re ruining me. You do realize that, right?”

My pulse kicked into overdrive.

“Am I?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she stared at me like I was a character in a story she was writing – the kind who’s supposed to be the villain, but somehow ends up being more desirable than the hero… and maybe I was. Maybe I liked being that for her. Complicated. Dangerous. Unspeakably hers.

“You keep testing my self-control like this,” she said finally, “and I might start thinking about things I shouldn’t.”

“Like what?”

She didn’t blink.

“Like us being neighbors with benefits.”

I froze. The world tilted on its axis.

She said it so casually, so confidently, but I could see the heat blooming beneath her skin. The careful control in her expression. The way her fingers flexed against the counter behind her.

Rosalind Cooper had just thrown the first punch in a fight she didn’t know she couldn’t win.

I dropped my spoon, my appetite shifting in an instant. It wasn’t food I wanted anymore, it was her. The spoon hit the edge of the bowl with a soft clink, but the sound felt deafening in the thick silence that had followed her words.

Neighbors with benefits.

She’d said it so fucking recklessly.

Ros stood there like she hadn’t just cracked the fault line I’d been carefully stepping over since she moved in… since long before that, if I was being honest. Her chin lifted, but her fingers betrayed her, tightening just a little too hard around the counter’s edge.

My gaze dragged down her body — messy hair, faded sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, shorts that showed off her legs and left nothing to my imagination.

She shifted under my stare.

“What?” she said, defensive now. “You’ve been walking around shirtless in gray sweatpants or in delicious, expensive suits all week. I’m only human.”

I leaned back slowly on my stool, resting one arm on the counter, the other over the back of the chair.

“So this is my fault?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be smug.”

“Too late.”

“Seriously, Knox. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

My smile sharpened.

“That why you cooked for me?”

She stiffened.

I stood up slowly, taking a step toward her. Her breath hitched.

“You made my favorite. Homemade minestrone. From scratch. You think that’s not going to do something to me?”

“I just… it was just a thank you. For everything.”

“And the neighbors with benefits thing?”

Her voice faltered.

“That’s… just chemistry and convenience.”

I tilted my head, stepping into her space, my voice low and lethal.

“Rosalind,” I said, dark and slow. “You think I’m the kind of man who can be convenient?”

Her lips parted. Her breath stuttered.

I didn’t touch her. Not yet, but I was already unraveling her, and she had no idea what she’d started.

Her breath came faster now, shallow and uneven, like she couldn’t decide if she was turned on or about to bolt.

Spoiler alert: it was both.

I closed the space between us, cutting off her escape route.

She didn’t try to move away. She also didn’t lift her chin in defiance like she usually would, didn’t toss out some biting little quip to keep her walls up.

No… this time, she just stood there, pink in the cheeks, breath shaky, waiting to see what I’d do.

My good girl had no idea how close she was to being completely fucked.

“You think I don’t notice?” I asked, voice low. “The way your eyes track every inch of me when I walk into a room?”

Ros didn’t answer. Her knuckles tightened where they gripped the counter.

“You think I didn’t clock the way you looked at me in those sweatpants?” My mouth brushed the shell of her ear as I leaned in. “The way you stared at my suit this morning like you wanted to crawl into my lap and ride my cock until you stopped seeing straight?”

She sucked in a gasp and tried to stifle the moan I’d pulled out of her.

I pulled back just enough to watch her expression.

“Admit it, Ros. You don’t want casual. You don’t want easy… not really.”

“I—” She swallowed hard. “I’m just trying to survive right now.”

“I know.” My voice softened. Just a fraction. “And you think casual gives you control.”

Her eyes met mine, wide and glassy.

“Knox—”

“But you’re not in control,” I whispered. “You never were. Not with me.”

My hands came to rest against the counter on either side of her, caging her in. I tipped my head, my voice dropping to a growl.

“And you fucking know it.”

She was already trembling, and I was just getting started. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her lips were parted like she wanted to, but no sound came out. Her eyes were locked on mine.

My hand brushed hers, slow and deliberate. Her skin was warm from the steam of the stove, but I burned hotter. I always had, especially when it came to her.

She licked her lips.

That was it. That was the last thread of control snapping loose in my chest.

I moved in slow, giving her the chance to stop me. Giving myself the chance to stop.

She didn’t.

Neither did I.

My hand slid up, curling lightly around the back of her neck. Her breath caught as my fingers threaded into her hair. Her lashes fluttered like she couldn’t decide whether to look at me or shut me out.

“Ros,” I said softly, warning her. Maybe warning myself, too.

She didn’t move.

“You sure about this?”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m not sure about anything when you look at me like that.”

I stepped in fully and pressed my body against hers, pinning her to the counter. Her breath hitched. My free hand braced beside her hip, and I tilted my head, breath warm against her lips.

“Then maybe it’s time I stop looking and start tasting you instead.”

I kissed her hard and deep, like I’d been starving for years and only just realized she was the cure.

She gasped against my mouth, and I swallowed the sound, my hand tightening in her hair as I slanted my mouth over hers again, taking, claiming, devouring her.

She kissed me back like she’d been waiting her whole life for this.

My Ros. My obsession. My breaking point.

And this? This was just the beginning.