As he listened to her putting down roots, digging in with the intent of sticking around, a sense of peace settled over him. He wanted her to move back home for good, he realized.

If he’d had any doubts about her being happy here, listening to her now put them to rest.

Her grandfather was right. This was where she belonged.

Instead of eating the loaded burgers—a treat for him—at the table, they’d both sat on the couch and watched TV.

Yvette surprised him with her appetite. For such a small woman, he’d expected her to pick at a salad, not wolf down a burger, fries and chocolate malt.

Looking at her now, curled up at the other end of the couch, her feet tucked up beside her, a throw pillow in her lap, he wanted her more than ever.

She nibbled on her last fry and he wanted her.

She sucked at the straw in her drink and his muscles tightened.

But he could bide his time and, as Armie suggested, maybe put some effort into seducing her. That thought made him smile.

She glanced his way. “What?”

Cannon shook his head. “Just thinking.”

About seduction.

It had become a lost art. Even before making it in the SBC, women hadn’t been a hardship for him. Now, more often than not, women came easily to him.

But not Yvette.

She frowned at him askance, and with reluctance took her attention back to the TV.

“When do you want to check out the stock Tipton left behind?”

She took another long drink of her malt, finishing it off, then stood to gather up their empty wrappers. “I wouldn’t mind checking it out right away, just so I know what I have to work with. Maybe sometime tomorrow.” On her way into the kitchen she added, “I’ll call Vanity soon, too.”

Jumping right in. He liked her enthusiasm, especially since the more enmeshed she got, the better the odds of her staying on for good.

Cannon turned off the television and strode into the kitchen behind her. “I’ll go with you.”

She paused in the middle of putting the trash in the bin beneath the sink. “Okay.”

A message beeped on her phone. Without looking at him, she went back to where she’d left it on the end table, glanced at the message and put down the phone without replying.

Her boyfriend again? Ex-boyfriend, he reminded himself.

“Everything okay?”

Looking a little guilty, she gave a bright but false smile. “Sure.”

When she started around him for the kitchen again, Cannon stopped her. Seduction, he reminded himself, and he leaned closer, spoke lower. “So what do you have planned tonight?”

“Tonight?”

He touched her hair, smoothing it, then let his fingertips trail over her shoulder and down her arm. “Remember, I’m heading out soon to meet the guys.”

Second ticked by, then she shook herself. “Catching up with old friends?”

That, and more. But he only nodded. “I’ll be gone awhile.” He put both hands on her waist and pulled her closer. “You plan to just stay in?” Hopefully she’d think about him, miss him a little.

She waffled. “I’m not sure yet.”

Not the answer he’d been expecting. Where did she think to go? Not back to Rowdy’s bar. Did she have other friends in town?

Or was she nervous about being home alone? Maybe he should cancel his plans and stick around. “If you’d rather—”

“I’d rather not be a bother. Go. Have fun.” Phone in hand, she darted around him as if seeking escape.

Once more, he trailed her into the kitchen. Luckily the house wasn’t large since Yvette seemed determined to make him chase her.

She’d set her phone on the table as she removed the garbage bag from the can. Damned if another message didn’t come in.

Yvette ignored it, so he tried to, as well. “You have some friends you’re going to reconnect with?”

“Not really. After I moved away, I didn’t stay in touch with anyone here.” She tied the bag shut and shook out another to replace it.

Was she deliberately elusive? “Then where would you go tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Dusting off her hands, she steered clear of his gaze. “I could maybe take in a movie or something.”

He should definitely cancel tonight. He’d never hear the end of it from the guys, but still, the idea of her sitting in a movie theater alone—

Her phone rang.

They stared at each other until it stopped.

Cannon cocked a brow.

Hefting the bag, she forged out of the kitchen.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’ll run it out to the garage.”

She didn’t let go. In a tone far too surly, she growled, “I’m more than capable of taking out the trash.”

Withdrawing his hands, Cannon held them up in supplication. “My apologies.”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she looked away. After three beats of silence, she regained her calm demeanor. “It’s not a big deal, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Fine. Then let me do it.”

Indecision had her scowling again before she thrust the bag at him. “Fine. Knock yourself out.”

“Phrasing, honey. Never tell a fighter to get knocked out.” He stole a quick kiss off her mulish mouth, then whistled on his way to the garage. The things that got her prickly amused him, and the way she reacted each and every time to his kiss made him want to rush things despite his good intentions.