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“I’m just glad I convinced you to be here,” he told her honestly. “Thanks for making the trip with me.”
Seated on the edge of the couch cushion, she peered into a wicker basket full of toys on a scarred wooden coffee table, then pulled out a yellow plastic truck. “As much as I love the farmhouse, I will admit that it’s been fun having some outings since you showed up in Last Stand.”
She dug deeper in the basket and found a green plastic trailer meant to hitch to the truck, then attached the two of them together.
“How much longer will you be in town?” he asked carefully, remembering how skittish she’d been about personal questions.
But he’d shared a whole lot about himself today. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask that she reciprocate in small measure. Still, he wondered if her sudden fascination with the toys in the family lounge was a sign of nervousness.
“Your mother returns from her trip in two weeks.”
“Two weeks.” It didn’t sound like enough time for how well he’d like to get to know Josie.
Then again, maybe it was the perfect time frame for two people in transition. Two people who didn’t know what next month held.
“The last time I invited you to have dinner with me, you interpreted it as a come-on line,” he began, not wanting to make the same mistake with her again.
“Because it was.” She set down the truck and the trailer and met his gaze, giving him her full attention. “And I can’t afford to play games.”
He appreciated her candor. He sat forward on the couch to get closer to her, his thigh grazing her knee as he shifted.
“Okay. That’s fair,” he acknowledged, his pulse kicking faster as her blue eyes roamed over him briefly. “I understand why. But what if we were careful to limit our expectations? We might really enjoy the next two weeks more…together.”
She arched a dark eyebrow at him. “Calvin Ramsey, are you suggesting a two-week affair?”
“I’m strongly advising it.” He had thought about this, and based on the way she’d dodged his last round of efforts to flirt with her, he figured being straightforward would be the best approach.
“For two weeks?” Her gaze narrowed as she studied him. “That sounds perilously close to playing games.”
“I’m one hundred percent serious about this.” He took her hand in his and met her gaze. Just that simple touch felt so damn good, he found himself bringing her palm to his lips. Pressing a lingering kiss there. “Josie, the last time I flirted with you for fun, you avoided me for two days afterward, so I’m not going to make that mistake again. I want to be direct about what I want.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze lingering on the place where he’d kissed her.
“Did I mention I’m recovering from some unhappy romantic issues?” She blinked up at him while, on the screen behind her, another inning came to an end.
He was more than ready for the game to finish so he could take her home and show her how good they could be together. He only needed to see Nate afterward and they could leave.
“Maybe an affair will help you put that in the past. Allow you to move on.” He reached to brush back a dark curl that had escaped her braid, skimming along the creamy skin of her cheek to tuck the hair behind her ear.
And yes, maybe he wanted to see the pulse leap at the base of her throat. To feel the hitch in her breath against his palm.
“That seems like thin rationalization for intimacy.” Her voice was a rasp of air.
Her eyes very aware of him.
“I’ve got a better one,” he assured her, canting closer.
Never taking his gaze from hers so he could see any hesitation. Any hint of uncertainty.
“I’m listening.” The blue vein at the base of her neck throbbed faster. Or maybe he just felt the rapid-fire beat at her wrist where he still held her hand.
“You don’t need to listen.” He cupped her chin. Skimmed his thumb along the fullness of her lower lip. “Just feel.”
When his mouth replaced his thumb, he felt her gasp, the tiny intake of breath drawing him in. His eyes closed then, all the better to taste her. Her lips were so soft against his. She tasted like cinnamon.
Cal let go of her hand to slide his palm around her back, steadying her. Her fingers landed on his shoulder, a featherlight touch that left him burning for more. But he wanted—no, needed—to go slow. He’d come this far. Now that he knew what it might be like between them, there was no way he was going to risk pushing too fast.
With more than a little regret, he broke off the kiss, but didn’t edge away. He stayed right there, tipping his forehead to hers until he found the strength to ease back.
