“You’ve always gotta tempt me, don’t you?”

“Keeps you on your toes.”

“I’ll keep you on your toes,” he replied as he grabbed the bowl of sausage he’d already browned before transferring it to the pot and adding the stock and whatever spice was in the unmarked bottle. He stirred and covered the pot before turning to face me again and grabbing his beer off the counter. He’d tried to tell me he hadn’t wanted a beer, but I’d insisted. Just because I didn’t drink didn’t mean he had to abstain.

“I’m sure you will. But first, you’ve got to tell me what the secret ingredient is in this magnificent jambalaya of yours.”

Lord shook his head. “That secret only goes to family.”

Family. Something I’d avoided thinking about for a long time, and now it was in the forefront of my mind. Not just because of my mother, but because of the guy cooking me dinner. He’d lost his, and then found his way back to the only part of it he had left. His outlook was so different from mine, and there was a lot I could learn from him. Hell, I had learned a lot from Lord.

I just wished I had something to offer him as well. Instead of insight, all I had was my trust fund and myself. And Lord wasn’t the kind of guy who placed much value on money. But he did value me for some crazy reason.

“Why did you let me stay? At the pawnshop? You could’ve told me no.”

“I did tell you no.”

“True. But you could’ve kept telling me no.”

Lord paused, bottle almost to his lips again. “Why would I have wanted to? You impressed the hell out of me. You knew things that even in two years I hadn’t found the time to learn. You’re smart, you work hard, and now the place wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re prettier to look at than Mathieu, too.”

I sipped my water and let his compliments—and the warmth they incited—roll through me.

The idea of being valued for more than what I had in the bank was a novel one.

“Thank you,” I said.

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For giving me a chance.”

“I think we’re even. Although, I probably got the better end of the bargain—I got an ace employee and a hell of a girlfriend.”

I was lifting my glass when he said the words. His blue eyes were intense and focused, as if daring me to dispute the label. The old Elle would’ve freaked at the thought of being pinned down. But I didn’t. I raised my glass toward Lord.

“To us,” I said.

The relief that swept over his features, and the contentment that settled in its place, told me I’d said exactly the right thing, even if it had only been two words.

Lord clinked the neck of his bottle against my glass. “To us.”

The rattling of the lid of the pot broke the moment, but it was a done deal.

Lord and I? We were an us.

Happiness. Contentment. Downright fucking triumph.

I felt all of those things when Elle didn’t turn and run the moment I called her my girlfriend. Not that I would’ve let her get far—I could picture a wrestling match in the living room if she’d made a break for it—but it was the principle of the thing. She trusted me, and we were a team and headed in the same direction. The only other person I’d had on my side, unequivocally, was my brother. Now that Con was with Vanessa, our bond hadn’t lessened, but it had changed with his shifting priorities. As it should. And now, for the first time in my life, I wanted what he had with someone. I wanted it with Elle.

“You’re seriously not going to let me help at all?” she asked as I loaded our plates into the dishwasher.

“Finish your coffee, woman. I’ve got plans for you.”

“Plans, I like the sound of that.”

I smiled as Elle downed her after-dinner coffee.

“You’ll like the reality of it even better,” I said. “Because I’m ready for my dessert.”

From the couch, Elle raised an eyebrow. “Dessert, huh? Wonder what that could be?” She set her empty mug on the coffee table.

I dried the last dish and shoved it in the cupboard before tossing the towel on the counter. “Guess you’re gonna find out right now.” Stalking toward her, I held out a hand. “We’re moving this to the bedroom.”

Elle, sexy siren that she was, spread her legs a few inches. “Isn’t the couch good enough?”

I leaned down and grabbed both hands and tugged. As soon as she was standing, I ducked again, placing my shoulder near her stomach and tossed her up.

“Whoa, hold on.”

I palmed her ass as I strode toward the bedroom. “Holding on.”

Elle’s giggle softened her words. “You know that’s not what I meant. What if I’m not in the mood to be manhandled?”

“I don’t care if you’re not in the mood to be manhandled, as long as you’re in the mood to be Lord-handled.” I slowed as I approached the bed and lowered her down with a bounce.

Her gorgeous red hair was mussed, and her eyes shone. Wanting to see her more clearly, I flipped on the light on the side table.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Elle.”

Her smile was small. “You’re not too bad yourself, pawn star.”

I dropped to my knees in front of her and wrapped a hand around both ankles before sliding them up to her knees. Coasting my palms along her thighs as I pushed her dress up to her waist, I paused when my thumbs skimmed the edge of her red lace underwear.

“There’s a good reason I don’t let myself see you in your underwear before we go to work in the morning, because I’d spend all damn day thinking about them, and we’d never get a thing accomplished.”

“I’m not seeing how that’s a bad thing at least one day a week. We still haven’t tested out the couch or the desk in the office.” Her breath hitched on the last word because I’d slid my thumb under the lace.

“These come off now, and the only reason I’m not ripping them off with my teeth is because I want to see you bent over that fucking desk, skirt flipped up, with your sassy red panties teasing me.”

I tugged them down her legs, until there was nothing separating me from paradise.

“Perfect. So fucking perfect. I could eat your pussy for every meal and never get tired of it.”

Chill bumps prickled Elle’s skin, but she didn’t reply.