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Mary raised her head from the desk, the edges of her lips turning upwards. “I’ll page you if I need you, Dr. Brady,” she said.
Chapter Eight
‡
What had possessed her? She wasn’t exactly the world’s finest cook but after today’s incident at the hospital she’d asked Adam if he wanted to come for dinner.
Now, she was mid-panic. A long time ago she’d owned a recipe book that was her mother’s. Where it was now was anyone’s guess. Her food repertoire wasn’t vast. Roast chicken, an almost passable lasagne, some penne pasta with the whole world thrown in and some kind of spicy sauce or lentil soup. That was basically the sum total of what she could cook. Hardly invite a guy round kind of thing.
Maybe she could just bake? Baking was definitely her thing. Cheesecakes, carrot cake, apple pie, cookies, cream gateaux, red velvet cake or huckleberry dessert – any one of them she could whip up in a heartbeat.
She looked around the kitchen and grabbed her apron, a smile dancing across her lips. Adam would probably expect a steak or some burgers or ribs. Let’s see what he would make of this.
*
He couldn’t believe how nervous he was as he reached out and rang the bell. This was ridiculous. But it felt as though there was a party going on in his stomach right now.
He leaned forward a little. Was that laughter he could hear?
He pressed the bell again. Music was floating through the air. Some kind of country and western style and there was definitely singing.
The door was flung open. Lisa, with an apron on and flour on the tip of her nose and ends of her hair.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Come in,” she said a little merrier than expected. She gestured him in towards her open plan kitchen and living room.
The apartment above the bridal salon was bigger than he expected with large windows looking out over the street.
His eyes widened. The dining room table was groaning with the amount of cakes and pies on it. He couldn’t help but smile. “Is this some kind of party? I thought we were having dinner?” He handed over the bunch of flowers he was currently gripping too tightly. There were lucky to still be alive.
Lisa looked touched as she took them. She buried her flour-covered nose amongst them and breathed deeply. “These are gorgeous, thank you,” she walked over to the sink and started filling a vase. “And look, red gerberas and purple larkspurs – my favorites.” She gave a little smile. “It’s almost as if you knew.”
He sent a silent prayer upwards for his lucky break. Just as well Kaitlin in the florists had told him exactly what to get.
As she stood at the sink he tried not to stare. It hadn’t been obvious at first because of the apron – but Lisa wasn’t exactly fully dressed. Her long legs and pert bum were exposed by a pair of skimpy denim shorts coupled with a white t-shirt. All his thoughts right now involved licking that flour off the tip of her nose.
Once she’d put the flowers in the vase and set it on the middle of the table she opened the fridge and lifted out an open bottle of sparkling wine. She held it up towards Adam. “Want some? Or I got you some beer, what would you prefer?”
It was a loaded question. Now he knew the reason for the merriment. What he really wanted to say was You, out of those shorts but he didn’t think he could go there yet.
He pointed to the bottle. “I’ll have what you’re having,” seemed the obvious response.
Her own glass mysteriously appeared from the kitchen counter top and she reached up for another. Her loose shirt shucking up to reveal her bare-skinned waist. This time he just couldn’t help but stare.
It was almost as if she knew. She filled the two glasses and then untied the apron, dumping it on the counter top. She looked down at her shorts and her white button-down t-shirt. Most of the buttons weren’t fastened. He was getting the tiniest hint of cleavage. He was hoping it stayed that way.
“Oops,” she said. “I meant to get changed before you arrived.” Her hand swept over the array of cakes. “But I guess I got carried away.”
He turned to face her. The atmosphere between them was charged. “Why did you do that?” He walked slowly around the table. “What’s with all the cakes? Couldn’t you decide what to make? I thought we were having dinner?”
She shrugged her shoulders. It was almost a pout. But Lisa probably didn’t know how to pout. “I guess I was trying to impress you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And why would you want to do that?”
Another loaded question. They were getting good at these.
She handed him one of the glasses and stepped a little closer. “Give me a minute to get changed.”
Her scent filled his nostrils. Flowery, peachy with a hint of something else.
He couldn’t help it. As he reached for the glass his other hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t,” he said quietly.
“Don’t what?” she asked, her brow wrinkling.
His eyes were fixating on the up and down movement of her breasts hidden underneath the thin material. It clung to every curve, bunching up around her waist, barely covering her hips and leading him downwards to her shapely slightly tanned legs.
Her legs shifted under his gaze. “You don’t want me to get changed,” she said throatily.
“Oh no.” He downed his wine in one gulp, setting the glass down and hooking his other hand around her hip and pulling her closer. He couldn’t stop the smile on his lips.
She didn’t object. She didn’t object at all. Just looked up at him through heavy eyes and tilted her head to one side. “I thought you preferred me in dresses?” There was a hint of teasing in her voice.
It was already a warm evening. But the temperature in here was sky high.
“Oh no,” he said slowly, “I definitely prefer you in shorts.” He pulled her up against him. “Definitely in shorts.” His finger stroked down the side of her face, catching the hair on her shoulder and pulling it back to reveal the delicate skin around her neck.
She sucked in a breath as he lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Maybe even in something less.”
She shifted her position, leaning back against the table covered in cakes. “Adam Brady, I spent all afternoon baking for you. Aren’t you even going to try some out?”
He loved it. The tone of her voice. The teasing. It was as if telling him about her sister and why she spent so much time at the hospital had just lifted a weight off her shoulders. It had brought them closer together. She was more relaxed around him. And he liked it. A lot.
There was no way he was letting her out of his hands. So he moved forwards, practically pinning her to the table, his full body weight against hers. “Where do you suggest we start?” he said hoarsely.
She leaned to one side, her breasts brushing against his chest. This woman was going to drive him crazy. One of his hands lowered, brushing against the smooth skin of her thigh and he felt her muscles tighten against him.
“Or how about we make this more interesting?” he said, reaching around her and pushing the cakes to one side. It only took a second to hitch her further up on the table. She
started to laugh. A sultry laugh, from deep within her as her legs parted to allow him to get closer.
Before she could lean back he grabbed the hem of her loose t-shirt and pulled it over her head. “I’ve just decided how I want to eat my cake,” he said.
She leaned back on her elbows, her pale blue eyes fixed on his. “I think this works both ways.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. The shirt was yanked over his head in an instant. He picked up the nearest piece of chocolate and cream gateau, balancing it beneath the curve of her breasts. His hands smeared the cream underneath the wire on her bra and across her quivering belly.
He lowered his head as she watched. He moved his hands to either side of her, leaning on the table, his head and shoulders just hovering above her. She flinched and pulled her stomach tighter as his warm breath danced over her skin.
“I like to take my time over dessert,” he said huskily.
Her head fell backwards as her body arched towards his. “Take as much time as you like,” she groaned.
It was all the response he needed. His tongue moved across her abdomen, devouring her and the cake, licking the cream and chocolate, stopping every few seconds to taunt her, tease her just a little more. Her hands grabbed at his head, running her fingers through his short hair, keeping his head firmly in place as he neared her breasts.
He slid one hand underneath her, unclipping the bra with relative ease and pushing it upwards. She arched towards him again, a gleam in her eyes, as he lifted one knee on to the table, then the other.
It groaned a little under their combined weight as plates started crashing all around them. His tongue flicked out. “Lisa, I promise you, that at some point I’ll give your desserts the attention they deserve.”
Desire flickered from her eyes as her hands moved from his head and ran down his spine, anchoring on his behind and pulling him against her.
“The desserts can wait,” she growled. “I can’t.”
