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She slid the casserole into the oven, then paused as she closed the door. “You know, I’m sick to death of talking about David. I don’t even want to think about him right now. Could we have a David-free evening, do you think?”
“Fine by me.” He stepped toward her, taking her by the hand and then drawing her into his arms. “How are you, lady?”
“I’m great.” She smiled up at him. “How are you?”
“Also great. I suppose messing around is out of the question.”
Her smile turned dry, as footsteps sounded in the hall outside the kitchen. “You suppose correctly.” She stepped back slightly, but stayed at his side.
Carol walked into the kitchen, frowning in Liam’s general direction. “I thought you were going to come watch me play Minecraft. You need to be there for the beginning of the game. Otherwise it may not make sense.”
“Right.” Liam suppressed a sigh. He doubted Carol would understand. “Do we have time for an observed game before dinner?” He raised an eyebrow at Ruth.
She nodded. “The mac and cheese needs to warm for a half hour or so. You can do some observing until it’s done.”
“Right.” He turned back to Carol. “Lead on.”
Dinner was as delicious as the smells had told him it would be. Carol spent most of the meal describing how to milk a goat, and even that didn’t kill his appetite, surprisingly enough. Of course, the fact that Ruth was seated across from him had a lot to do with it. Even when she shared her own goat-milking experiences, he didn’t lose his enthusiasm.
After dinner, Carol headed back to her PlayStation and he stayed in the kitchen to help Ruth clean up. She gave him a slightly rueful grin. “Sorry about all the milking conversation. It’s her current obsession.”
“No problem. It was interesting. In a sort of awful way.”
“Hey, it’s her heritage. Brett and I both grew up doing it. The folks didn’t have milking machines then.” She loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “Anyway, I think her enthusiasm will last until she has to do it on a regular basis. Then it gets a lot less exciting.”
He took a step closer, folding the dishtowel he was holding over the rack on the door. Then he leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of her body, trapping her against the kitchen cabinets. “Speaking of exciting…”
Ruth laughed, the sound rich and full in the darkened kitchen, and his body responded predictably, tightening to granite. He pressed his lips against her throat, running the tip of his tongue in a line along her pulse. “God, you smell good.”
“I smell like mac and cheese,” she muttered, her voice breathy all of a sudden.
He had a quick surge of purely masculine pride. He was the source of that breathiness, after all. “Yeah, like I said. Good. Beyond good.” He dropped his hands to her hips, pulling her close, then brought his lips to hers, running his tongue along the seam as she opened for him. He tasted savory and sweet, essence of Ruth, as his heart sped up again.
This can’t go anywhere. True enough. Not with a twelve-year-old a few yards away. Yet somehow that restriction made the kiss sweeter. Tasting her while he could but being ready to step away when he had to. Stolen moments, stolen kisses.
She pulled back to look at him. “You’re telling me mac and cheese is an aphrodisiac?”
“Your mac and cheese? Definitely.” He grinned down at her, absurdly happy.
I could get used to this.
And all of a sudden, he wanted to get used to it. To make it a regular routine. A part of his life.
You can’t, remember? Your life is heading to Park City.
Ruth must have seen something in his eyes. Her expression turned wary, then resigned. “About what you said last night, about Park City…?”
He took a breath. “Yeah?”
“When do you leave?”
“It’s at a new place—they’re not open yet. The management company’s supposed to let me know when they need me. Maybe early next month.”
She nodded slowly. “So a couple of weeks?”
“About that.” A couple of weeks with her. And whatever kind of future he could cobble together, assuming he could figure something out.
