I take a sip of water and fix my most attentive expression on Will. He's describing the specific challenges of a dovetail joint in cherry versus oak. I have no idea what a dovetail joint is, but I'm nodding like I do. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
"You're quiet tonight, Lily girl," Will says, glancing at me over his food.
"Just listening," I say easily. "The dovetail thing is fascinating."
"You don't know what a dovetail joint is," Callahan grins.
"I absolutely do not, but I'm enjoying the passion behind it."
Will chuckles, a warm rumble that fills the kitchen. Callahan's foot retreats to a respectable position under the table, and I mourn its loss immediately.
"I'm getting more water. Anyone need anything?"
Will shakes his head without looking up from his plate.Callahan says nothing, but I feel his eyes follow me across the kitchen.
I'm at the counter filling my glass from the filtered pitcher when I hear a chair push back. His footsteps are quiet on the kitchen floor. A man his size has no business moving that silently. I've stopped being surprised by it and started expecting it.
His hand finds my hip. He turns me around, my back hitting the counter edge. His mouth is on mine before the water pitcher is back on the table.
The kiss is filthy. No warmup, no preamble. His tongue in my mouth, his hand on the back of my neck, his body pressing me into the counter with an efficiency that tells me he's been thinking about this through every minute of Will's dovetail monologue.
It doesn't last long enough. He pulls back and I'm left gripping the counter behind me with both hands, the water abandoned, my face hot, my lips tingling.
"Your dad is right there," I whisper.
"He's looking at his chicken."
"Callahan, what's gotten into you?"
"You."
I check past his shoulder. I can't see Will properly from this angle, but knowing him, Callahan is probably right. I turn to him again and whisper.
"Then do it again."
His hand comes up to my face, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip. The urgency from a moment ago is gone, replaced by something deeper.
"Gently," he says, tilting my face up. "So I don't bruise your mouth for everyone to see."
He kisses me again. Slow, like he promised. His tongue sliding against mine, gentle and devastating and thorough. His hand is warm, holding me still while he takes his time. I melt against the counter. My hands find his shirt, curling into the fabric at his sides. I kiss him back with everything I have and it still feels like he's giving more.
He pulls away gradually, his lips leaving mine in stages. His thumb sweeps once more across my lips before his hand drops.
"Water," he says, nodding at my forgotten glass. "That's what you came for."
"Right." My hands aren't entirely steady. "Water. Hydration. Important for health."
He gives me a smile that could devastate small countries and goes back to the table. I stand at the counter for another few seconds, collecting the scattered remains of my brain.
"Good water?" Will asks, looking up when I sit down.
"Excellent water, Will. Very refreshing."
"I just bet it was."
He picks up his fork and gives Callahan a look so brief I almost miss it. Callahan, on the other hand is the picture of innocence.
Ramsey and Poppy are due for dessert soon. I'm looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure. Poppy also sees too much. She and Erin have been on me like hounds about Dean and the date they think ended in sex, and my only reliable escape route is asking Poppy to talk about the proposal. Or what Ramsey did to her last night. That one's a constant favorite.
