Page 56 of The House Guest

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit,” I said.

“Take your time. I’ve got the windows open to air out the kitchen.” He brushed his fingertips down my arm, sending a shiver through me. My body buzzed with excitement.

I ran my hand through his hair. “Thank you.” Burning dinner was even more adorable than his attempt at making it.

After completing my shower, getting dressed, and blowing my hair out, I went down to the kitchen, where the aftermath of Dorian’s attempt at dinner remained.

A pile of uncooked asparagus sat on a tray next to a frying pan of something unidentifiable.

“You were gonna make asparagus, too?”

“It would’ve paired well with the steak.” He sighed. “I was trying to recreate the meal you recommended to me the night I ate at your restaurant. It was the one thing I was sure you’d like. See those lumps of charcoal? That’s the steak, by the way. Turns out there’s a fine line between charbroiling and burning.”

I covered my mouth. “I bet it would’ve tasted delicious.”

“Speaking of tasting delicious…” He gave me a once-over. “You’re trying to kill me again with this outfit, aren’t you?”

Shrugging, I grinned impishly. “Well, you said you liked leather.”

“On you? Yeah. The fire alarm may very well go off again.”

“Sorry to say, but if it goes off again, it’s from this lingering smoke.” I coughed.

“That’s what I get for trying to expand my horizons. I need to stick to apple crisp.”

“No one expects you to be a gorgeous, brilliant innovatorandalso be able to cook.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be suspicious of someone who allegedly designs things, yet can’t even cook a steak properly? Ask yourself that.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “How about we order pizza and forget it?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested something so basic, but pizza sounds good, if that’s what you’re up for.”

“I’m in the mood for pizza and a movie.”

“A girl after my own heart.” He slid his hand down my back. “What do you like on your pizza?”

“Bacon and black olives.”

Dorian squeezed my ass. “You didn’t even have to think about it.”

“Nope. My mom and I always used to order that. It’s our favorite.”

His smile faded. “Remington used to like pizza, too.”

“What was his favorite?” I asked softly.

“Dad liked it plain. We’d order half pepperoni for me and the other half just cheese.”

“Then you should order half pepperoni now.”

“You sure? Will one pizza even be enough?”

“I’m not gonna eat more than a few slices. This corset doesn’t leave much wiggle room.”

“It’s causing my pants to fit tighter, too…” He winked.

After Dorian ordered the pizza, he opened a bottle of red. “This was supposed to be for our steak. According to the sommelier at the wine shop, it paired well with what I was making—which was apparently charcoal.”