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Leave it to grant to turn it into something dirty, and leave it to my nipples to get hard as diamonds at those dirty words. “You wish.”
“I do.” He winked as he took the grocery bags from my hands and made his way to the kitchen. “In that white dress, you look like a sexy little country fairy.”
I’d chosen a white dress that would tempt and teased him. It was lightweight cotton that was practically see-through, with three red buttons down the center of my cleavage. “This? It’s my baking dress.”
“Pants on fire, Brenna.” There was a dark promise in his voice that I desperately wanted him to follow up on, but not now. Not today.
“Where’s Mariana?” I’d started to get used to her effusive welcomes and the silent house was a little alarming.
Grant shrugged. “She’s become a true kid, checking out as soon as there’s work to be done. She begged to visit her friend today and since making friends means she might stop skipping school, I said yes.”
“Good decision.” I’d miss her middle of the day visits, but she was a kid needed to be in school. “I guess you’re my assistant, then?”
“Just tell me where you want me, Brenna. I am at your service.’
“Promises, promises,” I teased back, feeling the room warm up at least five degrees, maybe ten. Grant leaned in close and I could read his intention all over his beautiful face as he leaned in, head slightly slanted a moment before his lips crashed down on mine.
The kiss was hotter than hell because Grant didn’t take his time, he didn’t warm me up, prime me for deeper more intense kisses, nope, he dove right in, licking the inside of my mouth like it was his favorite flavor on earth. His tongue licked my lips and then the seam, encouraging me to open up and when I did, he slipped inside and kissed me until I moaned. He kissed me so deeply I had to hang on to his broad shoulders, he kissed me so hungrily I leaned into his big hard body and rubbed up against him like a cat in heat.
Grant pulled back, breathless and grinning like a fool. “We could always buy up the supply at Bread Box and spend the evening upstairs?”
Yes, please. “You think you’re the first parent who’s thought of that? Mara is prepared and you won’t like it, I promise you.
He dropped his forehead against mine and groaned. “So we’re baking?”
“Yep, we are. But if you’re a good boy, you can be dessert.”
At those words, Grant stood a little taller and squared his shoulders with a wide grin. “At your service, Ms. McKenna. Anything you need.”
“An apron, maybe two, to protect our clothes.”
Grant tugged his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the kitchen table before he disappeared down a short hall and returned with a checkered apron. “Done. What’s next?”
I licked my lips at the sight of a shirtless Grant, smooth honey brown skin rippling with pecs and abs, and a few war wounds that served as a reminder of why he was so fit. But good lord, the man was fit! He had muscles everywhere and each movement made one bunch and the other flex. I licked my lips again and sighed.
“Keep that up and these cookies will never get made.”
“Sorry,” I blinked, stealing one final glance before I pulled out my phone and searched the recipes I saved last night. “Baking. We are baking cookies for a fundraiser, not getting naked for fun.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
“Cookies first and then nookie, maybe. Maybe.”
“All right,” he said reluctantly and leaned forward to steal another kiss, this one much too short to do anything but tease me. “Tell me what you need.”
You. Right now. Buried deep. “You can put those muscles to good use by creaming together butter and sugar.” I dumped in the amounts the recipe required and pointed at the bowl. “Mix.” Grant got busy and I couldn’t look away from the way his shoulders and arms bunched and flexed as he whisked the butter and sugar, making it look much easier than I knew it to be.
“I guess with Mariana around, I should learn how to bake?”
“If you plan on this becoming a tradition, sure. My granny baked all the time but not much for school.”
“Yeah but it’s not just fundraisers like this, is it? There will be birthdays and other celebrations for when she scores her first soccer goal, makes the honor roll or lands the lead in a school play. All of that requires congratulations desserts, don’t they?”
I stared at him for a long moment, feeling my heart race against my chest as alarm bells sounded a warning on the edges of the walls around my heart. He wasn’t just looking forward to a lifetime of baking, he was planning to celebrate every event, big or small. How could a girl not fall for a guy like that? “You are a good man, Grant. A really good man.”
