She spun around to face him. "What is it with you and your . . . um, your stomach?" she stammered as her eyes focused on the body part she was scolding. Although Hank had managed to put on a pair of gray sweatpants, he was still naked from the waist up.

He put an arm on the open fridge door, blocking the path for retreat. "So you're only looking in there because it's more interesting than what's on TV?"

"Touché." She grimaced and slipped under his arm. "But you're the one without any proper food in his house."

"That's why I keep these around." He closed the refrigerator and pulled out a stack of takeout menus from a drawer. Spreading them on the counter, he motioned for Ali to sit on the other side. "Pick whatever you'd like. And while you're doing that, can I get you something stronger than water?"

She sat on one of the bar stools, placing her elbows on the counter and intertwining her fingers. "I'm not much of a beer drinker," she admitted, resting her chin on her hands.

"Sacrilege, but I guess I'll let that slide," he joked before pulling on a handle that revealed a pantry. It was the only spot in the kitchen Ali hadn't checked—she was afraid the bi-fold door would make too much noise—and it turned out to contain a small wine fridge. Hank passed over the first two bottles he examined, finally settling on the third.

"Will this do?" He showed her a California Chardonnay, and Ali nodded.

After uncorking the bottle, Hank poured a small amount in a glass, held it by the stem, and carefully swirled the golden liquid around until it coated the sides. He examined the effect and took a sip, swishing the wine in his mouth before swallowing.

"You look like you know what you're doing," she said, holding back a smile.

He set the glass down at the obvious sarcasm. "You don't think I do?"

"Well, not you in particular, but I've always been dubious about all of this." She pointed to the open bottle. "I mean, you're going to say it tastes like wild strawberries mixed with dark chocolate and just a hint of cinnamon, which is the most ridiculous thing ever."

"All right," he said with a nod while filling the glass halfway. "Let's see you give it a try."

Ali expected him to hand over the wine so she could have a taste, but instead, Hank drank that as well. Pushing the empty glass aside and leaning over the counter, he reached for her chin and drew her to him. The kiss was warm and sweet and tangy at the same time, filling Ali with longing while making her entire body tingle. Not wanting it to end, she let out a small groan when he drew away.

"So? What's the verdict?" He crossed his arms and appeared very pleased with himself.

She touched her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Pretentious smart-ass with a little . . . What is that? Peppermint?"

Hank threw back his head and laughed. "Right on all counts, including my mouthwash."

Ali sighed. "Darn it. I thought I'd miss and get another try."

He leaned forward and kissed her again. "Any time you want, gorgeous."

She giggled. "I thought you were hungry."

"Oh, I am, in more ways than one," he said with a grin. "But now that you've reminded me, you should get back to these." He patted the untouched menus.

"You really do have a wide variety of tastes," she observed, flipping through well-worn pamphlets consisting of everything from Southern barbecue, pizza, and Chinese to Lebanese, Thai, and even sushi.

"For food, maybe." He rubbed his chin contemplatively. "I'm quite selective in other areas."

Feeling her face flush, Ali pretended to ignore him. Instead, she turned over another menu. "Wow. This bakery delivers pie?"

"Yup. Best business model ever." When she rolled her eyes, he continued, "What? I like pie."

"Why am I not surprised?" she mumbled under her breath while tossing aside a burger menu.

Hank picked up the discarded paper and looked at it longingly. "Man, I haven't had this in a while." Setting it down, he went back to the wine and poured two full glasses. He placed one in front of Ali and took a healthy swallow of his. "Are you getting close?"

"Give me a minute and stop distracting me," she scolded, hiding behind a glossy picture of a fish taco.

He hooked one finger into the menu and pulled it down. "How am I distracting you?"

"With pie and all . . . all this." She gestured toward his naked torso.

"It's not my fault if you can't focus under pressure," he said with a shrug. "How did you even make it on the Forbes thirty-under-thirty list with that attitude?"

"For one thing, the men I usually deal with are professional and keep their shirts on." She smirked, reaching for the glass. "And how did you know about that, anyway?"

"Liz mentioned it. But I can put something on if that's what you'd like," he said with a glance toward the bedroom.

Ali shook her head. "I didn't say that," she said before taking a sip of wine to hide her embarrassment. Hank laughed again as he rounded the counter, but just as he reached her side, a faint tune rang out.

"That has to be my mother, and if I don't answer, she'll just keep calling back," Ali said, recognizing the ringtone and hopping off the stool, glass in-hand. Finding the phone in her purse, she confirmed the incoming number, took a big sip of the wine, and answered. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, darling," Grace cooed. "How are you?"

Ali sighed, not interested in idle chitchat. "I'm great, but this isn't a good time," she said as she turned to face Hank. He'd taken a seat on her stool and was intently watching.

"Oh, I'll make it quick, then," her mother said, using her well-known trick of feigning disappointment to guilt Ali into feeling remorse for attempting to blow her off. "I just wanted to ask when you're getting home."

"Home?" she asked. "I was always set to be here for another two weeks. I thought you knew."

"I do know, Alejandra, but I needed to confirm because I'm trying to make plans."

Ali shook her head in disbelief at her mother's uncanny ability to be firm and cryptic at the same time. "What type of plans?" she asked wearily.

"Just a little welcome-home party. Family, a few friends—"

"Absolutely not," Ali cut in. "I don't want a fuss."

"How are we supposed to celebrate—"

"There's nothing to celebrate, Mom." Ali squeezed the glass so hard, she was afraid she'd break it, so instead she headed back to the kitchen. "To everyone outside of our immediate family, I was just on vacation. That's what you've been telling people, right?"

"Of course, dear." Grace stressed the second word much too hard, making her sound less than sincere.

"Good," Ali defiantly spat the acceptance, in spite of her continued reservations. Setting the glass on the counter, she looked at the bemused looking man in front of her and knew exactly what she'd rather be doing. The only thing keeping her from it was her mother. "Now, I really have to go."

"Wait, there's someone who wants to say hello." Before Ali could object, there was a brief pause and another voice took over the conversation.

"Hey there, Alley Cat! How's the Wild West treating ya?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. Maybe if she wished it hard enough, he wouldn't be on the other end.

"Ali? Are you there?" he asked, testing the silence.

She sighed and opened her eyes. "Hi, Robert."

Her delivery was flat, and Hank looked puzzled. "Robert?" he mouthed silently, but Ali waved off his question.

"I miss you, babe. Can I come out to see you?"

Babe? What the hell? Ali cringed. Her ex was the last thing she needed right now. "I'm afraid the place I'm staying isn't really set up for visitors." She deflected as Hank grabbed her hips and pulled her between his knees.

"That's too bad," Robert said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Listen, maybe you can still help me with something."

She should have known he had ulterior motives. Other than getting into her bed again, that is. "What did you have in mind?" Ali asked while she lightly traced a laugh line at the corner of Hank's mouth with her finger.

"I want to ask you for some financial advice," Robert said over the sound of shuffling papers.

"I'm taking a break from work." Her eyes widened as Hank touched the top button on her shirt before looking back up at her for permission to continue. "I haven't even seen the market reports in weeks." She nodded, biting her lip at the thought of what was coming.

Somewhere in the Hamptons, Robert was none the wiser. "That's cool. I'm not looking for specifics at the moment, just general info," he said.

One button snapped open, quickly followed by another. "All right," Ali breathlessly agreed, unwittingly spurring her ex to continue.

"So we're thinking of expanding Rockitt Joe's manufacturing . . ."

Hank undid the third button and slid one hand inside the open fabric. When his cold fingers touched her warm skin, Ali gasped.

". . . but I think Asia is better. Maybe South Korea and Japan, for starters."

"Uh-huh." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as Hank cupped her breast and began to gently knead the soft flesh.

"Anyway, we'd need local capital . . ."

Ali wet her lips, feeling her heart clamor in her chest at the sensation. Every part of her was tingling from Hank's touch.

". . . to minimize the risk."

Hank drew his hand away and she looked down at him, wondering why he'd stopped. It was only to undo the final button, and as that slid out of its confines, he pushed the shirt over her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

"And I'm not sure about the timeline, but I'm hoping . . ."

Ali lost track of the conversation again as the man sitting on the stool in front of her returned his attention to her breast. With one hand on her hip, he used the other to push aside her lacy bra. His touch left goose pimples in its wake, and Ali balled her fist when his mouth took over. Hot, wet, and insatiable, the licks and nibbles just made her crave more.

"So, what do you think?" Robert finally paused, and Ali realized she had no idea what he'd been saying. Better yet, she didn't care.

"I'll give it some thought, but I'm going to have to call you back. Tell Mom I said bye." She ended the call, turned off the phone, and flung it across the room.

"That guy sounds like a real d-bag," Hank announced as his tongue teased her rock-hard nipple.

It wasn't exactly time for this topic, but Ali played along. "Robert? He's harmless." She tried to normalize her breathing even though Hank was doing everything in his power to arouse her. "A little pushy, maybe, but I've known him forever. He's almost like family."

"Family?" he asked as he drew away. "Didn't you two date?"

Whoops. "Briefly."

"Is he the one you said was great in bed?" He thrust his chin up, recalling her brash statement the day of the team-building challenge.

Ali laughed. So he did care. "I lied."

He smiled, creating creases at the corners of his eyes. "Good."

Sliding one hand down her body, he watched for a reaction until he stopped below her hips. When Ali didn't object, he reached between her thighs and began to rhythmically caress the tender spot. Only a thin layer of fabric stood between her and his eager fingers, and Ali wrapped her arms around his neck for support as she felt her knees go weak in response.

Hank's other hand was still on her hip, while his mouth found her breast again, and the gratification grew exponentially with every second. "Oh, fuck." Ali drew out the expletive in a soft moan as a surge of pleasure rushed through her.

"That is the goal," Hank said matter-of-factly, briefly lifting his lips from her breast. 

She couldn't help but laugh at his candor, but he suddenly stood, knocking over the stool in the process. He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her fiercely.