Setting his container of food on the table, he leans forward and takes hold of my chin. “You’re beautiful, Ashlyn. You could weigh a hundred pounds more and you’d still be gorgeous. I’d still be attracted to you.”

Studying him, I can see he’s being sincere, and those stupid butterflies take flight once more as my body leans into his touch.

I’ve never needed a man to tell me I’m beautiful, to pay for my meals, open doors, or take care of me, but having him do those things is playing havoc with my emotions and making me pray this thing between us works out.

“What are you thinking right now?” he questions softly.

That I’m stupidly falling in love with you.

“I don’t know,” I lie, looking into his beautiful eyes and wondering what he’s thinking.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning in and touching his mouth to mine briefly. “Let’s eat before all your food is cold.”

“Okay,” I agree, but instead of doing the smart thing, I lean forward and press my mouth to his, sweeping my tongue across his lips. The instant I do, his hold on my chin tightens, his free hand slides into my hair, and he takes over the kiss, sweeping his tongue into my mouth. I don’t know how long we make out, but by the time we get around to eating, our food is cold.

*

“Go back to bed,” Dillon bosses as I lean against the front door.

Rolling my eyes at that, I grumble, “I already told you I would.” I just catch his lips tip up, which annoys the hell out of me. He knows he’s won. Then again, he’s won for the last week. I haven’t worked all week long, and today is my last day at home. My foot is much better. I can put weight on it without wincing, and I don’t need to take the pills I was prescribed anymore to deal with the pain.

“I have to stop at my place when I get off work to pick some stuff up. Do you want me to bring dinner home?”

Home. Okay, that word makes those pesky butterflies take flight again, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s calling this home since he’s been here with me every night.

“Um, I may try to cook,” I murmur, watching a familiar car pull into my second driveway.

“I’ll check in on you today, before then.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats softly, dipping his face and brushing his lips over mine once, twice, then a third time, sliding his tongue across my lips, making me moan. I latch on to his dress shirt, and his hand on my ass squeezes. I have no idea how much longer I will be able to hold down the no sex rule. Every time he touches me, my whole body begs for more, and it’s not helping that we are sharing a bed and he walks around half naked most of the time.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he speaks against my mouth, giving my ass another squeeze before sauntering off down the steps to his car. Watching his ass in dark slacks, his broad shoulders covered in a burgundy dress shirt, and his confident gait, I hold my breath. I definitely won’t be able to hold out much longer.

“Um… what the hell was that?” Michelle, my very best friend in the whole wide world, asks from the sidewalk with her hands on her hips and her brows arched. I totally forgot about seeing her car pull in a moment ago. She’s been away with her boyfriend, Luka, visiting his family in Colorado, and we haven’t really talked since she’s been gone.

“Um…”

“Do not ‘um’ me, woman. Are you insane? That was Dillon the Dick, with his tongue down your throat and hands on your ass.” She swivels her head, watching Dillon back his shiny black Mercedes out of the drive and onto the road. “You have some explaining to do,” she hisses, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder while stomping toward me on her wedge-covered feet, and I cringe.

I can’t lie to her. I don’t even want to lie to my parents about this. As she forces me back into the house, I let her in and close the door before turning to face her.

“Spill it now. Obviously, your relationship with him has changed.”

“I may have married him in Vegas,” I say quietly, and she blinks.

“What?” She presses her hand against the wall dramatically, like she needs it to hold her up. “Did you just say you married him in Vegas?”

“Maybe.” I shrug, and she slides down the wall to the floor and rolls to her back.

“I knew this would happen. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.” She laughs, kicking her legs up and down like a toddler throwing a fit.

“When you’re done, I’ll be in the kitchen,” I mutter, moving around her and down the hall toward the kitchen so I can put some food out for Leo, who has been in hiding all morning.

Coming around the corner a second later, she climbs up on one of the barstools and grabs a banana from my fruit dish—which had always been empty until Dillon started staying here. “Please tell me he has a big penis.”

“How are you my best friend?” I scoop out Leo’s food into a dish and set it on the ground in his spot.

Taking a bite of her banana, she chews and swallows then points the uneaten portion at me. “As your best friend, I need to know you are married to a man who has a big penis.”

“You don’t seem to think it’s a big deal that I married him.”

“You guys have been pussy-footing around each other forever. I knew it would happen.” She shrugs. “Now answer my question.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” She smirks, and I roll my eyes.