Will noticed that there was a pause before the last sentence and carefully hid his grin. She’d barely mentioned that marble boyfriend of hers all day, and he knew she was only doing it now to tell him to back off.

No can do, Brynny.

“Suit yourself, Princess. This mattress is no good anyway.”

“Too small to accommodate your depraved tendencies?” she asked sweetly as he rolled off.

“No. Too small for yours,” he said with an eyebrow wiggle.

She stiffened slightly. “I have no intention of sharing a mattress with you today or ever.”

“Just as well. I think you wore out the one I had last time.”

“I hope you get bedbugs up your ass,” she muttered as he threw himself onto the next mattress.

Will took his time with the mattresses. He already knew which one he wanted. He’d been getting the same brand for years. It was just always easier to get a new one rather than deal with the hassle of shipping it every time he moved. But Brynn didn’t have to know that.

“Hmm, I think this one has just a little too much give,” he muttered, pretending to test the current mattress. “Say, Princess, could you straddle me for a minute so I can get a sense of how much leverage a woman’s knees could get on this thing?”

She ignored his request, and instead tapped a long finger against her lips and pretended to study the mattress. “You know, that’s a valid point. I seem to remember you just sort of lying there, so considering the woman will have to do all the work, it’s good that you’re paying attention to the female needs. Especially if you want her to come back for more. Oh, wait, you don’t do repeats.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh and moved on to the next mattress in one fluid movement. He watched carefully as she checked her watch, although he didn’t think she was really in a hurry. In fact, for most of the day, she hadn’t seemed to mind being with him. Much. He’d intentionally let her pick all of the furniture. Well, except for that awful beige couch.

He’d known all along that the thrill of being able to decorate a house from scratch would be too much for her to resist, and she’d thrown herself wholeheartedly into the task, asking the sales people millions of questions, trying dozens of different options before informing him firmly, this one.

He knew he was pushing it with mattress shopping, but it was a necessary step in his plan.

A salesperson approached them warily as Will rolled around on each mattress, and Brynn patiently explained that no, they didn’t need any help, that her acquaintance merely wanted to try them out. All of them.

The salesguy gave a tentative smile and wandered away as Brynn pulled out her buzzing cell phone, her eyes scanning the incoming message.

It was the moment he needed. Taking advantage of her distraction, Will rolled to his knees, hooked his arm around Brynn’s waist, and tugged, flopping both of them back onto the mattress with just enough of a jolt to make her purse whack him in the chest before he rolled her beneath him.

Or almost beneath him.

Mostly she was just wiggling and muttering obscenities at him.

He rolled onto his side, locking his arm around her waist and pulling her into the little-spoon position.

“So now what do you think about this one?” he said against her ear. “It’s hard, but I’m kind of thinking it’s just right.”

“Oh, wow, a blatantly obvious double entendre. How unexpected of you.”

But she was smart enough to know that every one of her wiggles rubbed her ridiculously tight ass against his erection. Other than her heaving breath, she lay perfectly still.

“We’re making a scene,” she said under her breath. Will almost smiled. She was curled up on a mattress with her worst enemy and she was worried about making a scene.

He rolled onto his back, but not before he’d clamped his hand around her wrist so she couldn’t wiggle away. “Now tell me honestly, what do you think about this mattress?”

She was still for several seconds before she rolled onto her back next to him. “I want a whole bottle of wine, Will.”

Victory.

“Fine.”

“And their baked brie plate.”

He smiled. “You got it.”

“And there’s this salad…”

“No, no salads,” he said, unable to stop himself from rubbing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist.

She hissed in a breath. “Well, if I get the rich cheese dish, I have to get the salad.”

“Says who?”

“My thighs,” she said primly.

“Honey, I’ve seen your thighs. They don’t care whether you have the salad or the cheese or the Goddamn crème brûlée.”

Brynn loved crème brûlée. Not that she would ever admit it.

“I guess I could do an extra session of yoga tomorrow.”

He snorted. “Yoga? You?”

She rolled her head to the side to scowl at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno, it just doesn’t really seem like you. Doesn’t that require patience?”

He felt her eyes studying his profile, and it took everything in him to not turn toward her and meet her eyes. And then to roll on top of her and kiss every cheese-loving, yoga-hating bit of her.

“I don’t really like yoga,” she admitted finally. She sounded surprised, although he didn’t know if it was surprise at the realization or surprise that he’d been the one to note it. She’d never exactly been one to know herself.

“So it’s decided. Cheese, no salad?”

This time he did turn his face toward hers, putting their lips just inches apart.

Will waited for her to whip her head away from his in panic, but she surprised him, remaining perfectly still except for the wary eyes that searched his face.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.

“Making you skip the boring salad?”

“Everything. The next-door-neighbor thing. The out-of-coffee ploy. The furniture shopping. And now dinner?”

He locked his eyes on hers, telling her the truth for the first time in a long time. “Don’t you ever get tired of fighting, Brynny?”

He kept his tone light, but she must have read the intensity in his gaze because her blue eyes went slightly wide. “Do you?”

I don’t mind the squabbling. I just want more.

But it was too soon. She still looked like a wary cat ready to call her stupid boyfriend at the first sign of her being turned on. And he knew he could turn her on. Easily. Her eyes kept moving to his lips and her pupils were dilated.

She wanted him. She’d wanted him when she he’d kissed her in the driveway last week, and when he’d rubbed against her in the kitchen this morning, and she wanted him now.

But she wouldn’t take him. Not until she’d gotten rid of Jimmy what’s-his-name. If he kissed her now, she’d hate him. Hate herself for liking it when she was supposed to be loyal to an absent boyfriend.

He allowed himself one more lingering touch of his fingers on her palm. Just enough to remind her of what it had been like with them. Enough to have her sucking in her breath and springing away from him.

Clearing his throat and hoping his erection wasn’t that obvious, Will glanced around until he spotted the salesguy he’d shooed away a few minutes ago.

He rattled off his desired size and model to the short, eager-to-please employee, who took rapid notes, and couldn’t resist sneaking a look at Brynn.

She looked properly furious.

“You didn’t even try that mattress,” she hissed after he’d given his payment and shipping information. “That brand of mattresses is over on that side of the store, and we haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Yeah, I don’t really want something new. I like the one I had before.”

He didn’t know if the double meaning was unintentional or if his subconscious had made him say it, but he found himself meeting her eyes all the same, watching for any sign of understanding.

But she lowered her eyelids as soon as he tried to meet her gaze.

Too soon, he thought, sucking back a sigh.

“Come on,” he said, patting at her butt. “Let’s go get you that baked brie.”