If I didn’t just go shopping, I would feel a bit uneasy about him sifting through my fridge. I was usually so busy that there were some weeks I went without shopping and chose to order takeout to save myself the time it would take to shop and cook. Cooking for one felt pointless most nights, especially after twelve hours spent at the office.

“Do you bake?”

“I can get by, why?”

“The storm may cut power, and if that happens, we need to have food that doesn’t need to be heated up in an oven. I suggest we get baking.” He opened up the freezer, pulling out the bags of frozen vegetables and various meats I had inside.

“Do you have a pantry?”

“Yes, it’s just over here.” I walked to the opposite side of the room, swinging open the double doors. Rows of shelves ran from the ceiling to floor on two walls; the third had shelves running halfway down the wall, stopping above the washer and dryer. I flicked on the light and exited the small room, expecting he was going to attempt to stuff himself in there with me, and there was no way there was enough room for the both of us. He waited until I stepped out to enter, and looked around before he picked up the five-pound bags of flour and sugar. He balanced them in his palms, weighing how much was left in the bags before placing them back on the shelf. Like the fridge, the pantry was pretty well stocked with canned and packaged food and unopened snacks.

“You think you got enough condiments in here?”

He turned off the light and stepped out with a sarcastic look on his face. I ignored his comment, crossing my arms across my chest as if waiting for his next assessment of our supply. His eyes licked across every part of my skin. A blaze of rampant desire coursed through his eyes like ivy. He was cocky and arrogant, making him seem somewhat childish, but I knew there was nothing childish about that look. His eyes watched me like I was a mystery to unravel, a puzzle for him to put together, a hidden treasure waiting to be found. I didn’t know what to think when he looked at me like that.

“Show me the water, and then we’ll go over what we should do.”

He deemed the supply of stocked water as “impressive” before we returned to the kitchen where he opened each and every drawer and cupboard silently while I looked on. Once done, he stood in the middle of the kitchen with feet shoulder-width apart, his thick arms stiff against his sides. He looked intimidating this way. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about being stuck with someone I didn’t know, but I thought I would rather have him there than not. I’d never been alone before, not truly. There had always been something to do, somewhere to go, someone to talk to. Could you imagine being stuck somewhere alone, completely alone? That’s worse than prison.

Plus, it kind of helped that he seemed to know his way around during an emergency.

“It looks like you have quite a bit of meat, which should last up to 3–4 days after we heat it, so let’s cook some of the chicken and steaks. You have a gas stove, so I’m not too concerned about cooking everything now. We should be fine on water so long as we stick to a gallon a day per person. You have some orange juice and soy milk, so I think we should switch drinking a glass of each every other day.”

“All right, pretty bird, you ready to show me what you got?”

“Wait, what?” I didn’t know when I zoned out, but his question shook me from my wandering thoughts.

“I already know what you got in there,” he said, his eyes perusing the curves of my body before his head motioned in the direction of the bedroom. I must have blushed ten shades of red before his mouth transformed into that sexy smirk that had me dropping my panties in the first place. Before I could pick my jaw from off the floor, he continued, “you said you could bake…”

“Oh.” I hightailed it to the pantry, like my ass had been pricked with a pitchfork. Turning on the light, I quickly pulled out all the things needed to make most types of baked goods. The large bags of flour and sugar were bundled against my chest with small containers of yeast, salt, and baking soda set atop. Though nothing could prepare me for the sight when I exited the pantry.

Joel was bent over in front of my fridge. The firm, round globes of his ass shining like a beacon in the night, guiding me to safe haven.

The quick intake of breath seized my lungs while every muscle from his shoulders down to his thighs was pulled taut, tempting me with thoughts of how firm yet forgiving his muscles felt beneath my hands. The crap in my hands seemed to fall from my arms, clunking across the counter, as I stayed focused on the way his shirt molded to his skin, highlighting the arch between his shoulder blades.

A couple days alone with that and I would need a rescue team to come save me from this man.

Rules. I put rules in place for this very reason. Something told me I was going to have a hard time abiding by those rules.

Chapter Three

There was something so domestic about working in the kitchen alongside Joel. He looked so comfortable in my home, working in my kitchen and wandering about my house without even an ounce of timidity in his actions. He moved from one end of the kitchen to the other intuitively, as if he knew where to find all the essentials to carve and season the meat that he handled like a professional butcher. I watched while his hands moved across the steak like a lover’s hands, and I grew hot thinking of the way those same hands held me firm the night before. How they dripped down from my shoulders to my hips as if he were committing the touch of my skin to memory.

“Oh, I should probably charge my devices before the power goes out.”

He leaned over the sink to peer out the blackened window. “Yeah, I would get on that. We probably only have a few hours before everything is down.”

Dropping the measuring spoon on the counter, I dashed off to collect my phone, mp3 player, and laptop and their various chargers. I brought them all to the kitchen, hooking them up to the outlet next to the fridge. My phone beeped when I pugged it in, alerting me to a few missed messages.

Kerri: Text me when you’re home, so we know you weren’t murdered before you got a good fucking. Teehee.

Kerri: OK, I’m going to assume the sex is soooo good you’re still reaping the benefits.

Kerri: Don’t make me come over there!!! Ugh, I sound like my mother.

Kerri: Is he still there?

Kerri: Storm coming. Be safe! Call me.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Joel over the sound of him pulverizing the chicken.

“OK.”

I double-checked the bars on my phone, smiling at my little bit of luck—three bars. Making my way back to the living room, I sat down and called Kerri back. The phone rang two times before she answered breathlessly. Perhaps I’m not the only one who got lucky last night.

“Are you seeing this shit?” she greeted between huffs.

“I know. I can’t believe it,” I groan.

“Some fucking weathermen—they can’t predict shit like this? I would have got in a quickie last night if I had known it would be weeks before I got any.” Her voice displayed the same sexual frustration we’d been hearing for weeks at the office. I’m pretty sure some of the girls had a pool going of when she’d finally break the spell.

I let out a light chuckle thinking of her reaction to my predicament. She is going to flip her lid when I tell her, or will she be excited for me, or jealous? I didn’t notice when the phone went silent, but it wasn’t long before her soft lilt echoed through the phone folding me back into the conversation.

“OK, spill your guts. I may need all the salacious details to hold me over. Hold nothing back. And none of that shy shit. You’re probably just as freaky as the rest of us.”