Read Online Unwrapping the Playboy by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online Page A

in his mind’s eye. Being on his game had been particularly difficult this afternoon.
    â€œI ordered takeout,” he told her. “I thought the delivery boy would be here before you.”
    â€œMore restaurant food?” she asked as she entered. She made it personal before she could think not to. “Don’t you ever have anything healthy to eat?”
    â€œPizza’s healthy,” he countered, arguing like a true lawyer. “It has all the major food groups,” he said when she looked at him skeptically. “Cheese, tomatoes, meat, bread,” he enumerated.
    â€œAnd a ton of salt.” And that negated anything good the pizza might have to bring to the table.
    â€œThat’s what makes it edible.”
    For a moment, she was propelled back into the past. The past when she had finally succeeded in banking down her demons and had thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to find a little happiness with Kullen.
    Before the roof caved in on her world and she discovered she was pregnant.
    The next beat, the moment was gone.
    â€œWhat do you have in your refrigerator?” she asked. Maybe she could come up with some kind of dinner for him. Almost anything was better than pizza, temptingly aromatic though it was.
    â€œShelves.”
    It was hard not to laugh. “Anything on those shelves?”
    He thought for a second, envisioning the inside of the refrigerator the last time he’d looked. “A couple ofleftover takeout things that I’m debating donating to science.”
    She grinned, oblivious to the fondness that had slipped into her voice. “You never learned how to cook, did you?”
    There was nothing wrong with that. He knew lots of people who didn’t cook. That was why God had made restaurants.
    â€œNever saw the purpose,” he told her. “Besides, most days I either order in or go out for lunch. Same applies to dinner.”
    She shook her head. “It’s not healthy to live like that.” The doorbell rang and he went to answer it. “The people in Tibet don’t eat takeout and they live a very long life,” she said, refusing to let up, “subsisting on yogurt and vegetables.”
    He laughed shortly. “It’s not a long life, it only seems like a long life because they can’t find a decent steak.”
    This time, it was the delivery boy with his pizza. Kullen handed him the money, then took possession of the extra-large pizza. He turned around and closed the door with his back.
    â€œI ordered pizza with everything,” he told her, carrying it back to the dining room on the other side of the family room. “You see something you don’t like, just take it off.”
    She tried not to think what a loaded phrase that actually was. “What if I don’t like anything on it?” Lilli posed.
    Kullen never missed a beat. “More for me.” He setthe box down on the dining room table. “But I seem to remember that pizza was your weakness.”
    No, you were my weakness, she thought. But that Lilli had to disappear a long time ago.
    Kullen opened the box and the aroma, already leaching out of the box by any means possible, now robustly filled the air, arousing her dormant taste buds.
    â€œIt does smell good,” she conceded.
    â€œHelp yourself,” he said, gesturing toward the oil-soaked box. “I’ll get the plates and napkins.”
    â€œI’ll get them,” she offered. It was the least she could do. “Just tell me where the kitchen is.”
    â€œYou can’t miss it. It’s the only room with a refrigerator in it,” he deadpanned. And then, when she kept on looking at him, he pointed over to the area just beyond the living room.
    â€œWise guy.”
    A sense of déjà vu washed over him as he watched Lilli disappear around the corner. It brought with it a host of warm, soft memories that in turn aroused feelings that had long since