“I’ll keep that in mind. How about you and Ginger come over to my place. Let me make dinner,” Duke said. “I’ve got some salmon to grill. Some corn from Mick’s garden. Who knew he’d be so good at growing vegetables? I have ice cream too. For dessert. I’ve missed you, so you should say yes.”

“I guess I can eat.”

He took her hand and they stood. “Come on, you,” Duke called out to Ginger.

CHAPTER Twelve

Duke had to admit he liked her in his house. She had a way of filling it, of being so together and calm he wanted to soak her in. It also meant he could smell her on his sheets, or a wisp of her in the air as he moved through the rooms.

“Can you peel and slice some cucumber? I’ve got fresh tomatoes if you want to use them,” he told Carmella.

He hoped so, because watching her cook was as hot as watching her organize or clean.

“I can toss together a quick cucumber and tomato salad.” She opened a cabinet, pulling out a bowl, and he liked that too. Because it meant she’d been there often enough she knew where it was. “Do you have vinegar?”

Duke pointed, hoping he wasn’t too obvious about checking out her ass. “To the left of the sink. I think I have balsamic but I don’t know what else.”

She tiptoed up to look through the bottles assembled on the shelf. “Rice wine vinegar. You have hidden depths, Bradshaw.”

“I do? That’s good to know. Vinegar is an indicator of this?”

Barefoot, she padded across his kitchen to grab one of his knives to slice up cucumber and tomatoes, swaying as she went. Her reserve was still in place, but not nearly as icy as before.

“Among other things.”

He made no attempt to hide the way he watched her as she peeled and sliced. Ginger made a little jingling sound, the tags on her collar swaying as she sniffed all the corners of each room, making sure she hadn’t missed anything in the three days he and Carmella had been arguing.

“I promise you I haven’t had any other dogs over.”

Ginger looked up, one of her ears flopping back as she gave him a very good impression of a dismissive snort.

“She’s going to be tough to win back,” Duke said, but it was a tease.

“She’s my protector.” Carmella’s smile told him she was amused. “He did give you a cookie. You can be nice to him now. If you like,” Carmella murmured to the dog.

“I’m too charming to resist forever. And I have a whole box of cookies to share with dogs who love me.” He winked at Carmella before paying attention to the fish he was prepping for the grill. “Just sealing these up now.” He put some fresh herbs and lemon slices into the foil packets and folded them closed. “I’ve got potatoes and corn out there now so those will be ready by the time the fish is.”

He took the stuff for the grill out and she joined him, ferrying supplies out from the kitchen to the table on his deck.

Late summer in Seattle. The sky, past seven already, would be locked in a purple-and-orange twilight for hours more.

“Your skin is even more beautiful in this light.” He paused to kiss her cheek as he returned from turning on some music. “I missed you, Carmella.”

“I live next door and we work together. It’s not like I was far away.”

Duke shook his head. “When you looked at me at lunch today and I saw all that emotion on your face, but none of the warmth you usually give me, it freaked me out. You don’t have to be in another state for you to be out of my reach.”

He stepped closer, pulling her to his body as the sultry sound of FKA twigs’s “Two Weeks” wafted through the air.

She swayed, just slightly, but he responded, wrapping his arms around her as they danced, and he fell that last bit into love with her when she rested her cheek on his chest like she was meant to fit right there.

“I missed you too,” she said quietly as the song ended and he needed to get back to the grill.

Emotions in his throat, he was grateful to have something to do with his hands so he didn’t leap on her and proclaim how he felt.

“I have a really nice bottle of white wine. I’ll run home to grab it.” She blushed as she rushed out and he let her, hoping she was feeling as connected and intensely as he was instead of panicking about a bad choice in letting him in her front door earlier that night.

Just that morning she’d been mad at him. No. Not mad. Hurt. Disappointed. And now? Now that he’d come to her and apologized so genuinely, after hearing what drove him to confront her? Now she was all mixed up because her usual kick him to the curb button was refusing to work.

Carmella headed for the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of wine she’d tucked away in her pantry. It wasn’t chilled, though, and she felt like a doofus.

Her belly still fluttered even with some time and space between them, and Carmella had to pause at her front door to get herself together again. He was a neighbor. A guy she dated and had sex with. A boss—which still made her nervous.

As long as she remembered their differences as well as the things that made them alike, she’d be fine. Because there was no call in getting more than superficially involved with Duke.

From what she could tell, he liked women, a lot of them. He dated around but never exclusively. She had no reason to believe he was with her either. And no call to demand it.

Even if she wanted it. Even if she maybe, in the smallest part of herself, thought maybe she was different. They were different. Which was the sort of thing that got a woman kicked in the feelings and she needed to remind herself of that.