“I’m suggesting nothing. Just stating facts about potential opportunities. For someone who might be interested in museum curation.”
“Alfie Spencer”—she turns fully to face me—“are you trying to plan a future with me?”
“Maybe.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that okay?”
“I don’t know.” But she’s smiling. “Sounds kind of serious. Like something we should think about carefully.”
“Oh really?”
“Mm-hm.” She rises on her tiptoes, arms sliding around my neck. “We should probably discuss it thoroughly. Make lists. Weigh pros and cons.”
“The sauce is definitely burning now.”
“Don’t care.” She pulls me down for a kiss that tastes like promises. “I’ve been thinking about my career path actually.”
“Yeah?”
“The museum thing, it’s not just about running from academia anymore. I really want it. To show kids what I saw in London, to make them fall in love with science...”
The passion in her voice makes my chest tight. This is what I love about her - how fully she throws herself into things that matter.
“You’ll be amazing at it.”
“You think?” She looks suddenly vulnerable. “It’s not very prestigious. Not like what my parents want...”
“Hey.” I tilt her chin up. “Since when do you care about prestigious?”
“I don’t. I just...”
“Want to make a difference,” I finish. “Which you will. Probably while wearing something pink and covered in dinosaurs.”
She laughs, bright and real. “You know me too well.”
“Getting there.” I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with burning garlic. “Still learning.”
“Well,” she says thoughtfully, “we’ve got time.”
“Actually, I think there’s still something more that I need to learn.” I purr, exposing more of her thigh.
She bristles at my touch.
“Oh yeah? What about?”
“There’s maybe a few inches of your body that I haven’t explored thoroughly enough.”
The pasta is definitely ruined. But with Tara in my arms, I couldn’t care less.
“Turn that stove off, baby, so we don’t have another fire. Then I’m going to take you into the bedroom and get you on your knees.”
Tara’s eyes darken as she reaches behind her to switch off the stove. “Is that so?” she murmurs, her voice low and husky.
I nod, already backing her towards the bedroom. “Oh yes. I think it’s time for some hands-on learning.”
She grins wickedly, fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me down for a searing kiss. “I do love your dedication to education.”
We barely make it through the doorway, hands roaming, clothes hitting the floor in a scattered trail behind us. Her skin is warm beneath my palms, soft and inviting, and every quiet gasp, every little sigh, winds me tighter.
Tara tugs me closer, her fingers threading into my hair, but then she stills, breathless. “Wait.”
