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I keep my eyes on hers as I try my cocktail. The heady combination of flavors hits my tongue, and I grin. Tart, sweet, satisfying. Strong, too; I can already feel the whiskey start to warm the space inside my skin.
Exactly what I do and don’t need.
“Classic with a twist,” I say, smacking my lips. “Just like your food. You think there’s room in your book for a chapter on cocktails? Because this is fucking delicious. Refreshing but strong.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. But I like the idea.” Eva takes another sip, then sets her glass down and leans over, resting her elbows on the edge of the island. Giving me a view of her tits through the v of her shirt. They’re propped up, smushed together between her arms. “I got a lot of new ideas today, actually.”
I gulp my whiskey. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. One that sticks out is an idea I got while watching Bryce love up on my mac ’n cheese. Showed me that I’m making family friendly food. You know, stuff that can feed a crowd and please it, too. It made me feel like I’m on the right track.”
My heart starts to beat. I sip my cocktail. Sip again.
“You’re really good with her.”
Eva grins. “Thanks. She’s a cutie. I love how much personality she has.”
“She had a blast being included today. Thanks for letting me bring her.”
Eva reaches across the island and taps her glass against mine. “Thank you. For everything. I had the best time and loved every minute of it. Even the nerve-racking ones. And those decorations? They were top notch. I loved them. The pineapple glitter and gnome pictures especially.” She wraps her palms around her glass and looks down. “I love your family.”
My heart is pounding now.
Something has shifted.
Something has changed. Or is changing, at the very least.
Then again, is my overactive, overeager imagination reading way too much into a single sentence? Probably.
Definitely.
I just can’t help it.
“They love you. A little too much—told you they had a raging crush on you. That’s why my parents took Bryce for the night. So you and I could, quote unquote, ‘get dinner and breakfast’ together.”
Eva laughs, the sound filling the room, and everything inside me lifts.
“Not gonna lie, I like the sound of that,” she says.
“So stay,” I say. “Stay the night, Eva.”
Her clear brown eyes meet mine. A heated beat of silence stretches between us.
“Ford.”
“Yeah?”
“This is—”
“Dangerous? I know.”
“I still haven’t made up my mind.”
“That’s okay.”
“I don’t want to string you along. I should go.”
“Maybe. But I want you to stay. So fucking bad, E.”
She takes a breath. Lets it out. “I want to stay, too.”
“I did say I’d throw head into the deal. And I know how much you like that.”
“Like it? I love it.”
“So stay. Stop thinking about tomorrow so I can, too.”
“I was not prepared for this, Ford. I was not prepared for you.”
“You think I was fucking prepared for you? Both times, E. Both times we’ve gotten to this point, and you’ve caught me off guard. Maybe that’s part of the magic.”
“You think we’re magic?”
“Hell yeah I do. Magic. Star-crossed. All that shit. Stay.”
Eva looks at me. Picks up her drink and drains it.
“You’ve had a long ass week,” she says. “You’re tired, I can tell. I’ll stay if you let me treat you for a bit.”
“Treat me?” I raise a brow. Raise my glass to my lips. “Go on.”
“You gonna let me touch you?” she asks, throwing my line back at me. Making me grin. Making me want to fucking growl like the animal she’s turned me into. “The way I want?”
I set down my drink. Push to my feet. Eyes locked on hers, I round the island.
“I get to touch you, too, right?”
“If I say so.”
“Say so.”
Eva grins, revealing a slice of even, white teeth. Slick inner lip.
“I say so.”
It feels right when I grasp both her wrists in my hand.
Feels right when I hike her arms over her head and push her back against the wall, angling my body so my groin rests between her legs.
Feels right when she gasps and I steal the sound with my mouth. She tastes like whiskey. Warmth.
Even though I’ve got seventy-five pounds and six inches on her, Eva somehow makes the embrace—the kiss—hers. She tilts her head and opens her mouth, tongue pressing decisively against mine. Pressing her body into mine, bucking her hips so I stumble back a little bit, releasing her hands.
Hands that find their way to my shoulders. They glide down the plane of my chest and stomach, the feel of her touch making the need between my legs coil to a painful kind of tightness. I bite her bottom lip.
She pants, biting me back.
“Off,” she demands, and grabs the hem of my shirt in her fists.
I raise my arms so she can yank it over my head. Her fingers are at my fly now, working feverishly at the button, the zipper, forcing them down as she begins to back me toward the hallway off the kitchen.
