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He glanced down at her. Her cheeks were bright pink. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who remembered the more pleasurable parts of that excitement. “Have dinner with me.”
She stepped back, frowning. “We’ve already had dinner.”
“I don’t mean tonight. I mean…some other time.” He went through his mental calendar a little desperately. He worked the night shift at the tavern four days a week. The other two days he worked afternoons and usually went straight to the brewery. But surely Bec could get along without him for one evening, given that he was only doing grunt work. He’d make up for it another day.
If he didn’t get Ruth into bed soon, he’d probably explode.
“Some other time?” Ruth’s voice sounded dry.
“Thursday. I work the early shift at the tavern. If you can wait until seven for dinner, we can go grab something after that.” Which could put them back at his apartment by eight thirty or so. He could have her home before midnight. For all he knew, she might have a curfew.
Ruth frowned. “I’d have to find a sitter. I can’t leave Carol by herself. I mean, I probably could, but I don’t want to. Leaving Carol to her own devices could be dangerous.”
He nodded. “Right. Maybe Bec could do it.”
Ruth shook her head. “I wouldn’t ask that of her. She’s got enough on her plate without having to take up childcare, too. I’ve got sitters I use. I’ll just have to check around and see who’s free.”
“Okay.” He brought his hand to her cheek. Somehow he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. “Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me?”
Her lips spread in a faint grin. “Yes, Liam, I’ll have dinner with you. On Thursday. If I can get a sitter.”
“Great.” He leaned down to catch her lips in a quick, slightly frantic kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his body. Stay upstairs, Carol, stay upstairs. If he had to back away now, he was a goner.
For just a moment, she wound her arms around his neck, pulling even closer so that her breasts pressed warm against his chest. And then she stepped back. “This is insane.”
He closed his eyes, yanking himself back under control again. “Yep. It is that. You never got your foot rub.”
Ruth giggled. “That’s okay. What I got made up for it.”
He snickered himself. Maybe foot rub could be code. “Next time.”
“Maybe you should go?” She raised an eyebrow in his direction. He had the distinct feeling she didn’t want him to go any more than he wanted to himself. But she had a point.
They kept coming close to doing something foolhardy. And he didn’t want her to regret anything she did with him. Ever.
He sighed. “Okay. I’ll call you to find out about the sitter and, you know, everything.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Should I say goodbye to Carol?”
She shook her head. “Nope. She’s busy sulking. You’d only interrupt her. I’ll tell her you said so long.”
He grinned. “Right.”
There was nothing for it. He had to leave. Yet…
He wrapped his arms around her one more time, kissing her for all he was worth, feeling her hands ball up in his shirt as she hung on.
Footsteps on the stairs.
“Well, shit,” he muttered. “Time to go.”
Ruth laughed, but it was rueful. “Time to go. Talk to you later, Liam.”
“Right.” He glanced up the stairs as he headed for the front door. “Night, Carol.”
She stared down at him, her forehead furrowing. “You’re leaving?”
“I am.”
“Okay. See you.”
He nodded. “See you, kid.” And he was out the door. Time to take off instead of pushing his luck.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Liam headed for the brewery, as he had every free morning for the past couple of months. This time, though, he wasn’t just going to be Bec’s assistant. This time, he was going to start working on a beer of his own. The saison. A light, crisp summer beer, flavored with herbs and hops, perfect for hot days and cool shade and stolen kisses in the shadows.
Perfect for Ruth.
