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Only a foot separated them now.
He got a whiff of something sweet.
Her brown eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “What do you think?”
“I think I like it. You—you look beautiful. I could get used to coming home to this.”
“Could you?”
He slid his attention to her hopeful, beautiful eyes.
Eyes that suddenly seemed to be pulling him into their depths.
He inched his body closer to her.
She took a small step toward him.
His heart beat faster, and his body trembled.
She looked up at him, blinking.
His arms reached out to her, pulling her to him.
His gaze lowered to her slightly parted lips, lips that invited his to join them.
But just to make sure he wasn’t mistaken, when he leaned his head down, he searched her face for permission.
Her eyes slid shut. That was all the permission he needed. He covered her lips with his, drinking in their softness, enjoying the feel of her. His heart yearned to draw her even closer, so he did.
“Anybody home?”
Michael whipped his head toward the door, letting Selina go. “Jake? What are you doing here?” Michael’s insides groaned. Of all the times Jake had to stop by, why did he have to pick now?
“I was on my way home from town and thought I’d stop by and tell Selina thanks again for saving my life.”
“Come on in,” Michael said, even though he really wanted to ask him to come back another time.
The screen door squeaked as it opened and closed. Jake stepped inside and his eyes bulged. “Woo wee. You sure look beautiful this evening, Selina.”
“Thank you kindly.” Selina glowed under his praise.
The look of approval on Jake’s face bothered Michael, so he tucked Selina under his arm. “She sure does.”
“Would ya like to stay for supper?”
Please, please say no.
“I’d love to.”
Michael inwardly groaned again.
“Well, have a seat and I’ll fetch another plate.”
Jake sat in the chair across from Selina’s. Michael noticed Jake was well-groomed and smelled of soap and shaving cream. Even his clothes were pressed, not very well, but they were pressed nonetheless. Just who was he trying to impress? Selina?
Selina brought an extra plate and glass and set it in front of Jake. He followed her with his eyes as she headed to the stove. “She sure looks nice, Michael,” Jake whispered. “I’m sorry about what I said about her when she first came. I was wrong.”
Those words meant a lot coming from the one person who never seemed to speak a kind word about anyone.
Selina’s shiny mane shifted from side to side at her waist as she headed back to the cook stove. He’d never seen her hair down before and it was definitely a sight to see. She was a sight to see. He only hoped she would wear her hair down more often and start wearing dresses all the time.
She brought a covered basket, a plate covered with a towel, a saucepan, and the Dutch oven kettle and set them down.
His heart stopped, fearful of what was in the pan. Some bizarre food?
He held his breath when she removed a lid exposing creamy mashed potatoes.
Michael breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good.
She filled both men’s plate with a generous portion and a small portion for herself.
Anxiously he watched as she raised the lid on the saucepan. Steam and the smell of gravy rose.
Whew. Thank You, Lord. Michael kept his smile hidden.
She filled a ladle and made a hole in their mounds of potatoes and filled it with the smooth, rich, brown gravy.
He glanced at the towel-covered basket—he wasn’t worried about that one. It either had biscuits or bread. As for the covered plate, that one had him worried. Who knew what was under that cloth? Just so it wasn’t crawdad tails, fried snake or some other crazy food.
She raised the cloth to reveal something fried.
His breath held. It sort of looked like chicken, but he wasn’t sure.
“What piece of quail would you like, Jake?”
“Quail? That’s quail?” Michael asked somewhat relieved.
“Sure is.”
“Where did you get quail?” Michael asked.
“Killed it myself.”
“You hunt?” Admiration filled Jake’s eyes.
“Been huntin’ most of my life.”
“I’m impressed.” Jake seemed to be impressed with a lot of the things Selina did. And that bothered Michael.
Selina tilted her head and looked surprised. A piece of hair fell across her cheek. Michael longed to move it out of the way just so he could feel her soft skin underneath.
She loaded their plates with quail. “Y’all want regular biscuits or cornbread ones?”
“I love cornbread,” Michael said. “I’ll take three of them and two of the regular biscuits.”
