28
When the knock finally echoed through his house, he practically ran to the door before forcing himself to slow down. Don’t be desperate, he told himself, although he might be. Desperate, confused, and needy, because when Taran had tried to cancel tonight, he was hit with a tidal wave of disappointment.
He made himself stand at the door and count to ten before he opened it. Even though he’d slowed himself down, he wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of him. He’d expected cutoffs and hoodie Taran, but that wasn’t who stood at his door. She was his chameleon, and he should have known that she would be dressed to fit in at her office.
His eyes tracked the collar of what looked like a man’s button-down shirt. But on Taran, it was a dress that pulled in tight at her waist and stopped mid-thigh. Her legs, the legs that had spent most of last night wrapped around his hips, were on full display. His body heated instantly. The plan to play with the kids, eat dinner, and talk sounded dull. His body demanded something different. Something hot and sweaty. And a hell of a lot more fun than Diablo.
“Inviting me to come in or just going to stand here undressing me with your eyes?” Taran asked.
His lips pull up. He loved this woman’s sass, but she had to remember who she was dealing with.
“Oh, I want you inside, and I definitely want you to come, but I prefer you moan my name when you do it.” Smug satisfaction erupted as her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “You like that idea too, mini muffin?”
Thatcaused her jaw to lock. She was easy to rev up in so many ways, and he enjoyed the hell out of all of them.
“Come in.”
She took four steps before she froze.
He quickly glanced around the room, but it was clean. He’d called the service to come in and do a quick run-through when he’d invited her over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head and sent him a smile over her shoulder before her focus moved back to his apartment. “Every time I turn around, you’re not what I’m expecting.” She shook her head as she walked over to his large sectional and focused on the wall behind it. “Finger paintings?”
He eyed the pictures of the four seasons. “Beth’s and Grant’s kids made me one for Christmas last year. It’s how they see spring, summer, winter, and fall. I had my decorator matte and frame them.”
“I love this one.” Taran pointed to a colorful explosion of what was meant to be flowers.
“Mandy’s. I’m not sure if she was painting spring or herself in that chaos.” Corey loved each painting because of how much of the kids’ personalities came through in what they created.
“This one seems so serious.” She studied the white and gray scene that depicted winter.
“It would make sense if you knew Nate,” Corey assured.
She spun slowly, moving around the room, pausing at photographs to study them. Finally, his collection caught her attention. The five-foot glass vase sat next to the gas fireplace. It had started as a joke between him, Luke, and Will. But it turned into something that took on a life of its own.
“I’ve got nothing—are these beer caps?” She laughed, even as she squatted down to look closer.
“Yeah.” He moved next to her. “From beer night. Will, Luke, and I keep them. You can see we went through beer phases over the years. It was Coors Light for a long time.” His finger traced up about a foot of the vase that was all Coors caps. “But Marc blew in with his prissy tastes, so we all had to adapt.”
Taran chuckled but didn’t say anything for a minute, and he wondered if she thought it was dumb. But when she turned to him, her eyes danced.
“You guys are such a fun, unique family.” She pushed back up to her feet and glanced around again. “Your home is perfect. Thanks for letting me come over.”
His chest pinged at the term home because that was exactly what he’d told the woman who designed his space. He didn’t need fancy, didn’t care about the price, but he wanted a place he loved to hang out in.
He stood up. “We should probably set up. I figured we could eat when we’re done.” He gestured to the TV, which currently had his demon hunter spinning in a circle. “I have mine pulled up. You just need to sign in.”
She sank into the sofa and groaned. “Oh man, this is the best couch ever!”
“Yes, it is.” That was one of his demands, a sofa he could kick back on and be comfortable but would be durable enough for the Evans kids to jump or spill on without an issue.
He moved to sit next to her.
“Huge sofa, and you need to sit on top of me?” she asked, but it didn’t really sound like a complaint.
“I’m happy to have you sit on a few different parts of me if you’d rather.”