Grady was so inside the kiss, the rush of his breath, the hammer of his pulse so loud inside his head, he wasn’t even sure which parent had spoken, but whoever it was, they ripped him right out like a kick to the balls.

Fuck. He took a step back, his hands falling from her arms. He stared at her, his chest rising and falling in unison with hers as she stared right back, her mouth wet and full. He could smell vanilla and taste cookies, and it didn’t seem to matter how much he wanted to toss her out on her ass because he wanted to kiss her more.

“Sorry,” he apologized, curling his fingers into loose fists to stop himself from doing just that as he switched his attention over her shoulder to her parents. “It’s been a long, cold day.”

Albie laughed. “Rather you than me.”

Grady’s gaze returned to Suzanne’s face—she still looked dazed and thoroughly kissed and he had to locate his earlier anger to stop himself from yanking her back again. She had some explaining to do, and he wouldn’t let his primitive masculine impulses derail him from the much-needed conversation.

Taking a steadying breath, Grady smiled at her parents. “Would you mind if I borrowed your daughter for a few minutes?”

Simone and Albie shot wry little grins at each other. “Not at all,” Simone said, shooing them with her hand. “I didn’t realize how creative frosting cookies could be, and we’ve got plenty more to do.”

“This is what I keep telling you, darling, anything can be a canvas.” Albie switched his attention to Grady. “You’ll have cookie masterpieces by the time you’re…” He faltered, realizing the road he was traveling down. “In no time,” he amended.

Grady didn’t bother to correct them. Let them think he was taking Suzanne away to ravage her—it was the part he was supposed to be playing, after all. Grabbing her hand, he tugged, and she followed as he walked out of the living room, through the arch, and down the hallway to his office.

No way were they having a conversation anywhere near a bed.

He gathered his anger as he went. He needed it as both sword and armor right now. Because this was not about picking up where they’d left off in the kitchen—he wanted an explanation, damn it!

But if he thought Suzanne was going to just stand there all dazed and pliant and let him rant, he was sorely mistaken. It was like the door clicking shut snapped her out of her altered state and instead of finding hazy blue eyes and a soft luscious mouth, she was staring at him through chips of ice, her lips tight.