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“It’s fine,” I said. And I meant it. “They weren’t a problem at all. They were perfect for me.”
“That’s not the point. I’ve already asked so much of you—Jesus, I didn’t even know the time. I thought it’d been half an hour, not over two.” He leaned against the counter and rubbed his face. He was frustrated with himself, and it was plain to see he was trying to keep it together.
Nothing I said to him right now would change that.
So, I acted instead.
I put the bottle on the table and walked to him. He still had his face buried in his hands, so I gently reached up, clasped his wrists, and pulled his hands away.
Guilty eyes found mine.
I leaned in and kissed him.
A gentle touch, meant to do nothing more than take some of the frustration away from him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him, and softly kissed me back. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing, especially after our conversation earlier, but it was all I wanted to do.
I wanted him to know that I didn’t care.
That I wasn’t angry or annoyed. That I didn’t blame him, because shit happened.
“Point taken,” he muttered when I pulled back slightly. He didn’t release me, though. “Were they really good?”
I nodded. “I came down and Eli was watching TV. Apart from him trying to give Ellie a leg-up into the cupboard and them watching me cook while sitting on the table…”
“All in all, it was a success.”
“Nobody got hurt, so yes.”
He half-smiled, and it actually reached his eyes. “You know, it’s funny. For someone who admits she doesn’t want kids, you’re amazing with them.”
I looked into his eyes. “Your kids make it easy to be.”
“Clearly, you’re forgetting that time when you bathed them.”
“No. I just learned the lesson not to bath them.”
He laughed, and I could see the tension leave his body. “Lucky you. I wish I had that option.”
I grinned. “You need to have something to eat.”
“Are you bossing me around now?”
Nodding, I flattened my hands against his chest. “Yes. You need to eat something.”
“Can’t I just have you instead?” He slid his hands down to cup my ass.
“Food and sleep would be more sensible,” I started, my breath hitching.
“I’m sensible all day. You make me want to be stupid.”
“Are you trying to say that being with me is stupid?”
Brantley paused. “See, I feel like no matter what I say here will be wrong. This is a trap, isn’t it?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t know. Do you think it’s a trap?”
“That’s definitely a trap.”
I did my best not to laugh, but I’d never had a poker face, so that attempt lasted all of five seconds before it collapsed and I burst out laughing.
“I knew it,” he muttered. “I’m not hungry.”
“Lies. You have to be hungry.”
He shook his head. Then, with strength that shouldn’t have surprised me, he gripped my waist and pushed me back toward the table.
“What are you doing?”
“Ssssh,” he whispered, pushing me until my butt bumped the edge. He picked me up, sitting me on the edge, and stepped between my legs. “Shut up and let me kiss you.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I think I just squashed a bit of grilled cheese with my hand.”
He pulled back slightly. “That’s a turn-on if ever I heard one.”
“Squished grilled cheese,” I said, picking up my hand and confirming my thoughts. “Helping libidos everywhere.”
He removed the offending, half-eaten sandwich, and did a quick sweep of the table to make sure nothing else would get in the way of what was clearly about to become a make-out session.
I was okay with this. Especially when he got a cloth wet and wiped off my hand.
“There. Now, will you shut up and let me kiss you?”
“Are you going to do it anyway?”
“Yes. And I have half a mind to end with giving you an orgasm because you deserve it.”
I eyed him. “We’ll see.”
He grinned, then swooped. Lips on mine, hot as hell, and all too addictive. His hands massaged up my legs, over my hips. He flattened one on the table and pressed the other against my back to stop me falling backward.
His tongue flicked against my lips.
I bit his lower one.
He chuckled, making me grin. His hand crept up my back, and our bodies were pressed close together when he kissed me again. His tongue battled mine, and I felt this kiss all over. My nipples hardened and my clit ached, and I knew without a doubt that I needed him inside me again tonight.
I needed more.
I needed to make sure the way I felt was right—that I hadn’t been clouded by sex. Not that having more sex was the best idea to fix it, but still.
Then, I froze at a knock.
We stopped kissing, and at the same time, turned our heads so we were facing the doorway.
