All Vivienne could do was nod and watch him walk out the door.

Three days.

Three days since he'd pretty much bared his soul to her and nothing had changed. Well...not really.

There was a bit more ease between them, like they were truly becoming friends, but rather than making Matt happy, he was beginning to feel like he had misread the entire situation. And while he'd had every intention at the time of being patient and waiting until Vivienne was comfortable with admitting she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, he hadn't counted on her holding him to it.

He had figured she'd leave that afternoon and go shopping and do whatever it was she had to do, and by the time they got back together for dinner, she'd tell him she didn't want to wait. He had pretty much visualized the entire interaction right down to taking her up to her bedroom and peeling her out of her jeans and the sweater that had been making him crazy all through lunch.

Black lace.

He'd envisioned her in scraps of black lace under her clothes and he was going to gently, almost reverently, remove her bra-and then tear her panties from her body. And the entire time, Vivienne was going to tell him how much she'd wanted him and couldn't wait any longer.

But had she? No.

They'd made dinner and talked about upcoming menu ideas and how she would present them in the magazine and on the blog. She asked about his favorite kinds of burgers and snacks. Then there was talk about sauces and condiments, spices and drinks. The more she talked about food, the more he began to realize just how seriously she took her job. She wasn't looking at their time together as just for fun and hanging out; it was all business.

And definitely no pleasure.

And Matt was ready to lose his mind.

Patience be damned. Tonight he was going to turn the tables on her. Sort of. They had talked earlier about getting takeout for dinner-one of her writers backed out of an article, so Vivienne was writing it herself-and she wasn't in the mood to cook. Matt had agreed but after coming back to Aaron's, he had rummaged around and found a couple of really nice steaks in the freezer. Not everything Aaron had stocked was for cooking in the microwave, and Matt wasn't a complete idiot. He knew how to grill, and he could easily handle a couple of baked potatoes and a salad.

Hopefully.

A quick glance at the clock showed it was almost five. He knew her schedule fairly well-and knew she was a creature of habit-so he was confident she'd be walking over in the next few minutes to discuss what they were going to order. He looked at the platter on the kitchen counter with pride. He had seasoned the steaks and they were ready to go on the grill. The potatoes were in the oven, and the salad was prepped and in the refrigerator.

And while he knew the saying was "the way to a man's heart was through his stomach," he was kind of counting on it working the other way around. Since Vivienne was a foodie, he hoped he could impress her by cooking a meal for her.

Right on cue, there was a knock on the back door, and he heard Vivienne call out to him.

"In here," he replied, standing next to his surprise.

"So I was thinking Chinese would probably be-" She stopped when she spotted him. Matt couldn't help but grin at the look of surprise on her face. "What...what's this?"

"You've been cooking for me for well over a week now, and I thought it might be nice if I returned the favor." When she started to speak, he held up a hand to stop her. "Now I'm not saying this meal will be anywhere near as amazing as what you can do, but I enjoy making steaks on the grill whenever I'm home or on a break from touring. I thought it might be a nice change of pace for you to let someone else do the work."

He was feeling pretty confident until he noticed the tears in her eyes.

"Oh shit! Oh...Viv," he began nervously. Closing the distance between them, he gently grasped her shoulders. "I...I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you. I thought I was doing something nice and... Oh God...please don't cry!"

Vivienne let out a small laugh before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight.

"Um...Viv?"

"I'm not upset, Matt," she said and then pulled back to look up at him. "I am so incredibly touched you would do this." Reaching up, she wiped her tears away. "No one has ever offered to cook for me. I think I scare people, and they think they have to compete or something. But honestly, no one has ever done something this thoughtful. Thank you."

For a minute, he wasn't sure if she was being serious or not, but after watching the way her smile lit up the room, he realized she was, and it filled him with pride.

He'd done that.

He, Matt Reed, had made Vivienne Forrester smile.

And it was a beautiful thing.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Nope," he replied confidently. "No, wait... I'm lying. You can pour yourself a glass of wine and then join me outside while I grill. I know how much you enjoy eating out on the deck and the weather is being cooperative."

"It sounds wonderful." Doing as he asked, she poured herself some wine from the bottle he'd left out to breathe and then followed him outside. Once seated, she took a long sip and sighed.

And then giggled.

Matt looked over his shoulder at her. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry. I just can't believe this is happening." She giggled again.

He looked at her in confusion.

"I can't believe Matty Reed, world-famous rock star, is grilling a steak for me!" Another fit of giggles. "It just doesn't feel real."

After adjusting the flame on the grill, Matt put the platter down beside it and turned to face her. "First of all, that's ridiculous. And second of all, I don't want you to look at this that way."

She instantly sobered. "I...I didn't mean to offend you, Matt."

He walked over to her and braced his arms on her chair, essentially caging her in. "I don't want you looking at this like Matty Reed is doing anything. That's not who I am. That guy? He isn't here, and he hasn't been since I showed up here with Aaron. I'm Matt. I'm the guy you grew up with." His expression was fierce, he knew it, and when Vivienne's eyes widened, he almost regretted his little outburst.

"Okay," she said, her voice a little breathless. "That's good."

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little gruff. His gaze zeroed in on her lips and it took every ounce of strength he had not to close the distance between them and kiss her. "Why?"

She swallowed hard and met his heated gaze. "Because I don't want to be with that guy. I can't say I particularly like Matty Reed. But you, Matt? I like being with you."

Damn. Did she have any idea what her admission did to him? Everything in him went hot and he knew it wouldn't be long before she'd notice exactly how her words affected him.

"That's good, Viv," he said. "Because I like being with you. And I want..." He leaned in a little closer. "I need..." His lips were mere inches from hers. A hissing sound came from the grill and Matt cursed. How impressive would it be if he burned dinner? Slowly pushing himself away from her, he walked over to the grill and flipped the steaks over before excusing himself to get their place settings and check on the potatoes.

Once inside the kitchen, he had a brief, yet firm, mental talk with himself. So far the night was going exactly as he'd hoped. Vivienne was clearly relaxing around him and she was enjoying his surprise dinner. And if Matt was honest with himself, he'd have to say he was having a lot more fun making this meal than he'd thought possible. Maybe it was because of all the things Vivienne had been teaching him about food, or maybe it was because he knew he was pleasing her. Either way, he never knew dinner, especially one prepared by him, could almost be considered foreplay.

The oven timer beeped, and he walked to shut it off and grab the foil-wrapped potatoes from the oven. On the counter, he had a tray prepared that had the plates and silverware as well as a basket for the potatoes and small bowls of butter and sour cream. Not wanting to be away from the grill much longer, he quickly picked up the tray, stepped back outside, and placed it on the table.

"Here," Vivienne said as she rose to her feet. "Let me set this stuff up while you check the steaks."

Matt wasn't going to argue. He lifted the lid on the gas grill and saw the steaks looked damn near perfect and he chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

He looked over his shoulder at Vivienne and grinned. "I was just wishing we had your camera. I think these babies look good enough to go on the blog!"

She walked over and nodded in agreement right before pulling her cell phone from her pocket and tapping the camera app.

"Viv," he began even as he laughed. "I was just kidding."

"Nonsense," she said, clicking a few pictures. "They are very impressive and I think this meal should be documented. After all, no one's ever cooked for me, so even if we don't put it on the blog, I'd like to have the pictures for my scrapbook."

That simple statement felt like the greatest compliment in the world. Matt had been revered as a musician, had accepted Grammys and been interviewed by enough reporters-most of whom spent a decent amount of time praising his work and his talents-but knowing Vivienne wanted to put a picture of the steaks he made for her in her personal scrapbook? Yeah, it was better than all his awards combined. And damn if he wasn't getting choked up.

Shaking it off, he quickly turned off the flame and put the steaks on the platter. "I, um...I just need to go inside and get the salad and-"

"I'll go get it," Vivienne said, "and I'll grab the rest of the wine." She looked around at the table. "What are you drinking?"

Normally he would have joined her in a glass of wine, but tonight he wanted to be one hundred percent sober. Not that a simple glass of wine would change that, but if the night went the way he was hoping it would, he wanted to know he was in complete control of his senses.

"Water with lemon, please," he finally said. "There's a pitcher in the refrigerator and I sliced some lemon earlier that's on the shelf beside it. Thanks."

Two minutes later, they were seated at the table. Vivienne's smile was brilliant, and she was practically bouncing in her seat. "Everything looks wonderful, Matt." She rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Can we start? Is it okay if I just dig in?"

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Be my guest," he said, but then quickly added, "just...please don't be disappointed if it's not that good. I mean...I haven't had a whole lot of practice like you with preparing a meal."

She instantly dropped the knife and fork she had just picked up and looked at him. "Seriously? You too?"

"What? What did I say?"

She frowned and sunk in her seat and if Matt wasn't mistaken, she looked...hurt.

"Viv?"

"I told you. People don't like to cook for me or invite me over for a meal because they're intimidated. But you know what? I don't compare! I don't sit down to a meal and critique it or think about how I can make it differently or better or...anything! I just simply enjoy sitting down to a good meal with friends. Do you know how frustrating it is that people automatically assume I'm going to grade them or give them a score on their cooking?"

"Well, I didn't say you were going to score it, but-"

"But nothing," she said, sitting up straight again. Her expression was fierce. "You listen to me, Matt Reed. I am thrilled you wanted to cook for me. And I wouldn't care if the steaks were charred and the potatoes undercooked and the salad was wilted. I love that you did this for me."

And then, without another word, she picked up her silverware again, cut into her steak, and took her first bite.

Matt found himself holding his breath. He heard everything she had just said and part of him began to wonder if the steaks were overcooked or the potatoes undercooked, and he was eyeing the salad suspiciously.

"Holy shit is that good," she moaned. "Wow." Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she continued to chew. "There is nothing like a good steak."

If the scrapbook comment hadn't already tugged at his heart, listening to her moan with delight certainly did that-and more.

It was almost midnight and Vivienne could not remember the last time she had laughed so much or had such a good time.

After they had finished eating dinner, they had cleaned up and then gone back inside Aaron's, where Matt had shown off his improved piano skills. She had to admit it, she was impressed. It was obvious he was practicing and taking it seriously, and she praised his efforts. It seemed to be the theme of the night-praising him.

In the years since Vivienne had first started dating, she'd dated her fair share of men. But Matt was definitely the first one who seemed to really hone in on who she was and what would impress her.

And she was the first to admit she wasn't easily impressed.

From the dinner to the conversation and even to the music he had played on the piano, it all just seemed to flow with all of the things she was interested in and enjoyed. She had to give him props-he was clearly very observant.

They were now sitting on the sofa in the living room, and Matt was telling her about the time the band had been on tour in England and met Princes William and Harry.

"Seriously? You got to meet them both?"

Matt nodded. "They were really quite cool. I was expecting them to be a little prim and stuffy, but they were the kind of guys you'd want to hang out with. It was really impressive."

"Wow. So...who's the most famous person you've met so far?"

Raking a hand through his hair, Matt leaned back against the corner of the sectional. "We've met pretty much everyone in the music business it seems. Sometimes it's just a quick greeting and other times it's at shows or events. I think the princes though are at the top of my list."

"Really? So there's no musician out there that you're completely starstruck by?"

"Well, sure. Hell, what musician wouldn't get a little emotional by meeting Robert Plant or Jimmy Page? Mick Jagger? I mean, I've met them all and definitely got a little tongue-tied, but luckily I didn't make a complete idiot out of myself."

"Do you ask for autographs?" she asked teasingly.

"Hell no," he laughed. "You can't do something like that and hold on to your dignity."

She waved him off, joining him in his laughter. "Who cares about dignity? I would love to have something signed by one of those guys!"

He looked at her with disbelief. "Seriously? Page, Plant, and Jagger? Come on, Viv. I picture you being more of a Lady Gaga or Taylor Swift kind of girl."

"Hey!" she said with mock outrage and then started laughing again. "Okay, fine. I pretty much have all of Taylor's songs on my iPod, but I really like classic rock too!"

With a wink and a halfhearted okay sign, he nodded and reached for his glass of water.

"It's true!" she protested.

"It's okay, Viv," he said, his tone playfully mollifying. "I think Taylor Swift is extremely talented, and she's a very nice young woman."

She glared at him. "You're mocking me."

"I bet if I asked you to, you could probably play a couple of her songs on the piano."

Dammit. She could, she thought.

"And I'd also have to say you probably couldn't play one Zeppelin or Stones song." He shrugged and finished his drink. "But that's okay."

"All right, mister," she said, jumping to her feet. "That's it." Storming across the room, Vivienne pulled out the piano bench and sat down before taking a deep breath. It wasn't like her to let herself be challenged into playing music-she'd had enough poking and prodding from her parents while growing up-but right now it was important for her to prove she had an eclectic taste in music.

Doing a quick stretch of her fingers, she gently placed them on the keys and began to play the Rolling Stones classic "Angie." Midway through, and without once looking at Matt to see his reaction, she switched over to the Zeppelin classic "All of My Love." Both were more ballad than hard rock and left her feeling a little uninspired. With very little effort, she segued into a rendition of "Lola" by the Kinks. By this time, she felt like she had made her point but decided she needed a finale.

She went with Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off."