Read Online House of Payne: Rude by Stacy Gail - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stacy Gail
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report except the same-old, same-old, as neither she nor Rude could tolerate each other’s presence. The only reason he was here had to be that he had no clue what to do when it came to putting together his parents’ anniversary party. This wasn’t even a non-date.
This was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
“What are you looking for?” Sass frowned as he put the bags of takeout on the counter and pulled open a random drawer by the fridge, clearly making himself at home.
“Forks. Everything came with chopsticks, but I’m too hungry to fuck around with them.”
She pulled open a drawer. “Glad to hear it. It takes me forever to finish a meal with those things.” And the sooner she got him out the door, the better.
“Where do you keep your wine glasses?”
Surprised, she nodded at the small wine rack around the corner by the pantry, where glasses hung by their stems. “I’m not sure what kind of wine I have that would be good with Chinese.”
“No worries. I brought a rice wine that goes with Kung Pao chicken like candlelight goes with satin sheets.”
In the process of fishing out flatware, his words hit her like a Mack truck.
Holy. Freaking. Shit .
In an instant her thoughts did their best impression of a flock of startled birds, scattering in every direction. Why the hell would he say such a thing? Was he trying to be provocative, or was it just the fact that her mind was a total gutter-dweller? God knew she could twist just about anything into a dirty joke, and she had a special talent for finding ways to use the phrase, “that’s what she said.” But her Jedi-level dirty-mind tricks worked against her now, and made her see provocative statements where there couldn’t be any.
Candlelight and satin sheets, though…
That was one hell of a word picture. She didn’t even have to get creative to go all Barry White on that.
So there was no doubt; he’d drawn that word picture deliberately. And if any other guy had said it, she’d have seen it as a signal to flirt her ass right out of her clothes.
But this was Rude . That meant nothing was what it seemed, and if she had to, she’d glue her damn clothes on to make sure they stayed in place.
“Sass?”
She jumped, mortified. Good grief. She was staring at the forks in her hand like she had no idea what they were. “I was just considering the carbs of a serving of saké versus regular wine. Usually I counsel against drinking your calorie or carb intake on a daily basis, but it’s all right to treat yourself every now and again.”
Oh God, she was babbling. And not just any babbling. She was boring-babbling. Worst of all, she was doing it because she wasn’t thinking about her intake of carbs . No. She was thinking about her very personal intake of Rude.
Of all people, Rude .
“No work tonight.” He came at her like a force of nature, and she found herself herded toward the dining room table and seated before she knew what was happening. “Tonight we relax, eat some good food and make a little progress.”
“Progress.” She watched him place several food containers on the table before he opened a small bottle of rice wine and poured out equal measures into the glasses. “You mean on your party plans? I went ahead and found a couple venues that would be big enough to accommodate what you need, but all the best places have already been booked. If you were hoping for the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier or Venue One with all the amenities, you’re shit out of luck.”
He shrugged and sat down opposite her. “Since my hopes were aimed at pasta night with the family and didn’t go any further than that, I think I’ll be able to live with the disappointment.”
“If you were any more of a typical dude when it comes to your man-planning, I’d swear someone was writing your script for you.”
He shrugged and forked in a mouthful of Kung Pao. “There’s a reason stereotypes exist, Sassy Pants. This shit’s way the hell out of my purview,
This was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
“What are you looking for?” Sass frowned as he put the bags of takeout on the counter and pulled open a random drawer by the fridge, clearly making himself at home.
“Forks. Everything came with chopsticks, but I’m too hungry to fuck around with them.”
She pulled open a drawer. “Glad to hear it. It takes me forever to finish a meal with those things.” And the sooner she got him out the door, the better.
“Where do you keep your wine glasses?”
Surprised, she nodded at the small wine rack around the corner by the pantry, where glasses hung by their stems. “I’m not sure what kind of wine I have that would be good with Chinese.”
“No worries. I brought a rice wine that goes with Kung Pao chicken like candlelight goes with satin sheets.”
In the process of fishing out flatware, his words hit her like a Mack truck.
Holy. Freaking. Shit .
In an instant her thoughts did their best impression of a flock of startled birds, scattering in every direction. Why the hell would he say such a thing? Was he trying to be provocative, or was it just the fact that her mind was a total gutter-dweller? God knew she could twist just about anything into a dirty joke, and she had a special talent for finding ways to use the phrase, “that’s what she said.” But her Jedi-level dirty-mind tricks worked against her now, and made her see provocative statements where there couldn’t be any.
Candlelight and satin sheets, though…
That was one hell of a word picture. She didn’t even have to get creative to go all Barry White on that.
So there was no doubt; he’d drawn that word picture deliberately. And if any other guy had said it, she’d have seen it as a signal to flirt her ass right out of her clothes.
But this was Rude . That meant nothing was what it seemed, and if she had to, she’d glue her damn clothes on to make sure they stayed in place.
“Sass?”
She jumped, mortified. Good grief. She was staring at the forks in her hand like she had no idea what they were. “I was just considering the carbs of a serving of saké versus regular wine. Usually I counsel against drinking your calorie or carb intake on a daily basis, but it’s all right to treat yourself every now and again.”
Oh God, she was babbling. And not just any babbling. She was boring-babbling. Worst of all, she was doing it because she wasn’t thinking about her intake of carbs . No. She was thinking about her very personal intake of Rude.
Of all people, Rude .
“No work tonight.” He came at her like a force of nature, and she found herself herded toward the dining room table and seated before she knew what was happening. “Tonight we relax, eat some good food and make a little progress.”
“Progress.” She watched him place several food containers on the table before he opened a small bottle of rice wine and poured out equal measures into the glasses. “You mean on your party plans? I went ahead and found a couple venues that would be big enough to accommodate what you need, but all the best places have already been booked. If you were hoping for the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier or Venue One with all the amenities, you’re shit out of luck.”
He shrugged and sat down opposite her. “Since my hopes were aimed at pasta night with the family and didn’t go any further than that, I think I’ll be able to live with the disappointment.”
“If you were any more of a typical dude when it comes to your man-planning, I’d swear someone was writing your script for you.”
He shrugged and forked in a mouthful of Kung Pao. “There’s a reason stereotypes exist, Sassy Pants. This shit’s way the hell out of my purview,
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