I wait for him to explain. Who decorated it, the story behind the house, anything. There has to be something to say. This place is immaculate, and it’s cozy and just screams home. It’s nothing like the man I’ve come to know over the last month.
He drops my bags on the bed. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to make a sandwich. I’ve got turkey, ham, roast beef.”
“I can do it. You don’t have to wait on me.”
“It’s a sandwich, Emily.” It’s obvious he’s losing his patience with me. It makes me wonder if I ruined his plans for this evening. I wonder if he had a date or something, but as soon as I think it, I get a burn in my chest. I don’t even want to think about why him with another woman bothers me, but it does.
I blow out a breath. No matter what I do, I piss him off. “Do you have peanut butter and jelly?”
He smirks and nods. “One peanut butter and jelly sandwich coming up.”
I watch him walk out of the room. I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself from looking at the way his jeans are snug on his ass. I’ve noticed him before, plenty of times actually, but it feels different now that we’re in his house. There’s a pull low in my belly. I’ve been attracted to him since the first day I met him. Even though he was scowling at me and still continues to do so every day at work, I still can’t get over these feelings that I have for him.
I grab my toiletries, a shirt, underwear, and shorts and walk into the connecting bathroom. I shower quickly and get dressed before walking out to the kitchen. Dawson is sitting at the table, an empty plate in front of him. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is at the place setting across from him.
When he sees me, his eyes travel down the length of my body and back up again. I can feel his gaze as if it’s an actual caress of his hand moving up and down my body. I swallow when he continues staring at my legs. My T-shirt is so big, he probably thinks I have nothing on underneath. I grab the hem of my shirt and knot it at my side to show him I have shorts on. Albeit short, I still have some on.
His body physically trembles, and for the first time, I wonder if he’s attracted to me. He has never touched me or made me feel uncomfortable, but right now, I can feel the heat coming off him, and it’s directed right at me.
I sit across from him, and he stares down at his empty plate. I must be a glutton for punishment because I want his eyes back on me. “Thank you,” I mutter.
He lifts his eyes to look at me, but they’re guarded, and it’s obvious that I bother him just by sitting here. “How long have you worked at Savage Ink?”
He leans back and lifts the water to his lips and drinks it. I figure he’s not going to answer, so I take a bite of the sandwich. The moan is instantaneous. Perfect amount of peanut butter and jelly. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so this is really good.
He shifts in his seat and starts to talk. “I worked at Red’s Diner in high school.”
“At Violet’s diner?” I ask, surprised. Vi didn’t tell me that.
He nods. “Yeah, well, her mom and dad owned it then. But yeah, same one. After high school, I started working at Savage. Aiden trained me, helped me get my license. I’ve been there ever since.”
“Well, you’re good at it. I appreciate you training me on piercings.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve never been good at anything, but I love piercing. I love giving people a way to express themselves.”
He stands up and walks over to the sink to wash his plate. Everything is in order here. Everything. There’s nothing out of place; it’s all very rigid. I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s the same at work. All his tools and room are clean with no clutter. “You’re good at piercings,” he says and clears his throat. “You’re good with clients too. They like you.”
I have to strain to hear him, but I almost choke on my sandwich when I hear the compliment. “Thank you,” I mutter around my mouthful. I finish the rest of my sandwich and take a drink of water before standing up and joining him next to the sink. He’s drying his plate, so I go about washing mine. He’s standing right next to me, and I know I should stop while I’m ahead, but I’m not that smart. I rinse my plate and turn to him, holding my hand out for the towel. He hands it to me, and I start to dry. “Except you. Most people like me, but you don’t.”