I scrutinized her face, but she looked at ease. “I’ll text you in a bit. Think about what you want tonight. I’ll make it for you.”
She nodded.
Then I stepped close to her because I couldn’t not. My hand cupped her cheek, fingers threading into soft sable hair.
“Is it later?” she asked around a mischievous little grin that I ached to taste.
“Yeah,” I breathed, and gave in.
I felt her smile change, transform into something welcoming and wanting as her lips parted. She tasted like the tea I knew she favored in the mornings, honey-sweet.
Her hand found its way to my chest, resting on the soft flannel I wore. I wondered if she could feel my racing heart. It hadn’t calmed since she’d stepped through the door, eager and breathless, happy to see me in her space.
The kiss stayed slow and intent. I wasn’t about to let things get out of hand when her dad or her brother could walk by at any moment. I wanted her, but I respected her too.
Finally, when my hands shook from the effort to keep myself in check, to stop myself from moving down her body, I placed a tiny bite on her bottom lip and pulled back, resting my forehead against hers and breathing the same air.
“More kisses later?” she asked.
My eyes were closed, but I knew she was smiling.
“More kisses later,” I confirmed.
Then I made myself leave before later came too soon.
Eleven hours later, I opened my front door and forgot what I was doing.
Candace stood there, outlined by the setting sun, and I wondered how I’d ever get through dinner. She looked so beautiful. I felt like I’d been hit with a tranquilizer dart, right in the chest, and it was trying its best to take me down.
She’d done something with her hair. It hung in long loose waves that were somehow both elegant and casual.
The jeans she wore had a rip at the knee, and I felt like a damn Victorian viscount getting a glimpse of forbidden ankle.
Clearing the addlebrained desire from my throat, I finally managed, “Come in.”
Candace beamed, her curious gaze bouncing all around.
Instead of stopping to let her snoop, I took her coat while she toed off her shoes, and then I led her into the kitchen. “Can I grab you something to drink? I have ared ale from Trailview, the cranberry seasonal from Firefly, and a bottle of pinot noir. Or water or sweet tea.”
“You don’t have to stipulate that the tea is sweet,” Candace said with a grin. “We’re in North Carolina. That’s a given.”
“It actually took me a while to warm up to it. I drank unsweet until after college.”
She gasped dramatically, teasing me before finally answering, “I’ll have that cider, please.”
I grabbed the bottle from the fridge and popped the top before pouring it into a glass. I could feel her amused gaze on me the whole time, and I only barely managed not to spill anything.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting her drink. Her pleased smile hadn’t gone anywhere.
“What?” I asked.
“I could have drunk from the bottle, Mark. You didn’t need to put it in a glass.”
Warmth crept into my cheeks. “It gave me something to do with my hands.”
She laughed. “Stop being nervous. It’s just me.”
Just her. God, if she only knew. There was nojustabout it.
