The Intern: Enemies To Lovers

I set my glass down and reached for the containers-one blue, one red-and I loosened the top of the red one. “I had some brownies in the freezer that I was going to bring over. Oreo-flavored ones. But since I had some extra time after I left the office, I whipped up something else.” I lifted off the lid. “Everly says my cupcakes are the best, so that’s what I went with.”

He pulled my body against his, holding the top of my ass. “I thought I made it clear that you were going to be my dessert tonight.”

“You can have both.”

He looked toward the treats. “Vanilla?”

“There’s nothing vanilla about you, Declan.”

I swiped some frosting off the side of one, and he sucked the glob off my fingertip.

“Apple,” he moaned.

“And there’s apple pie filling in the center of the cake part along with tiny, tiny apple chunks mixed into the frosting.”

He set my wine down and lifted me into his arms. “Because it’s my favorite.” He kissed me, a burst of sweetness coming off his tongue. “You’re too good to me.”

“I also made my favorite; that’s in the blue container.”

He set me on the counter and opened the other lid, taking out a cupcake. “Nutella, I’m guessing.”

“How did you know?”

“I pay attention.” He took a bite, and I watched his expression change as he took in the fullness of the flavor. “Fuck, this is good.”

He held it in front of my lips, and I nibbled the side before he finished the rest of it and went in for a second one, this time apple.

“You’re going to ruin your dinner.”

“With an appetite as big as mine?” He dived into my neck, kissing up to my ear, growling, “Impossible.” When he finally reached the middle of the apple, his eyes closed, and he groaned, “Hannah, what the fuck is this?”

“You like?”

He gave me a quick glance, eyeing me up and down. “I far more than like.”

“Love then?”

Even though there was a small bit of frosting on his lip that he hadn’t licked off yet and his hand was full of the dessert, he stood between my legs, wrapped an arm around my back, and kissed me. There was no hurry in the way his tongue slid into my mouth, an explosion of passion following.

And when he pulled away, “Yes … love,” was what I heard.

I knew we were no longer talking about the cupcakes, but I brought us back to the topic and said, “I made a dozen of each flavor. You’ll have plenty to savor over the next couple of days.”

“I’m afraid they’ll be gone by tonight.” He finished the rest of the second cupcake and licked his fingers. “Don’t move.” But he did, leaving me to go to the oven, lowering the door to check inside.

I tried to steal a peek. “Is that homemade bread?”

“Focaccia.”

I then attempted to look at the stovetop, where he was stirring a large pot of something. “I smell … salmon?”

“I sauteed some mussels, shrimp, calamari, lobster tails, and clams in a white wine and butter sauce that I’m going to add to pappardelle. Lots of chefs combine seafood with tomato sauce, but I like the lightness of white wine when you use a hearty pasta like pappardelle.” He slid a little to the side and pointed at the cast iron skillet that was right next to the pasta. “This is a piece of salmon and a whole branzino that I’ve cooked in olive oil and a bunch of fresh herbs.” He turned his back to the food. “Fish for the first course, pasta for the second. Apple cupcakes for the third.” His eyes narrowed. “And then I’m having you after dessert.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

I searched his eyes. “Come here.” I waited until he was close to cup his cheeks, his scruff prickling my palms. “You haven’t barked at me all day. You didn’t hold a grudge after our argument, like I’d feared you would. You even invited me over and cooked this incredible meal for me.” I rubbed my thumb over his lips. “And now, you’re going to eat me as a fourth course.” I glanced back and forth between his eyes. “I’m just wondering who this new guy is and where he’s been hiding this past semester.”

His arms circled around me. “The barking isn’t gone-I can promise you that.” He nipped the back of my thumb. “I just wanted to do something special for your graduation, but don’t get used to it. Peter isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

He brushed his nose against mine. “And the only thing I’ve thought about all day is how many orgasms my tongue is going to give you tonight.” He started tugging down my yoga pants. “I don’t think I can wait until after dinner.” He stopped when the waist of the pants was at my knees and looked at me. “Unless you’re hungrier for that?” He nodded toward the stove. “In which case, I’ll pull these back up.”

There was no choice in my mind.

There was only him.

And us.

I ran my fingers through his hair and pushed the top of his head to lower him down my body. “This,” I moaned after the first swipe of his tongue, “is what I want.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

DECLAN

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parked outside Hannah’s parents’ house and grabbed the large bag I’d placed on the passenger seat before making my way up to the front door. Based on the number of cars here, there was one hell of a party happening inside, and in attendance were all the people responsible for my paycheck-the three brothers along with their parents, David and Sue Dalton. Although I’d had individual conversations with their sons, I hadn’t mentioned anything about Hannah to David or Sue, nor did I plan to. If the topic was mentioned at this party, I’d address it, but not before.

I pressed the doorbell, and a familiar face greeted me on the other side of the door.

Just not the face I had been hoping for.

“Declan Shaw,” Camden said, chuckling. “Can’t say I’m surprised to see your ass on my doorstep, but after all that shit-talking, maybe I should be.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Funny, my sister says you’re one of the good guys. Is that true?” He looked over his shoulder before we connected eyes again. “When I asked my cousins that question”-he laughed-“they had a whole lot to say about you.”