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She opened the door, a cute, flowered apron tied around her waist. She smiled at him as her fingers curled around the edge of the door. “Howdy, cowboy.”
“Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, grinning at her. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get my parents out of the house.”
She nodded to the bread in his palm. “And you stopped for bread.” Her eyes came back to his. “When I told you I was making small plates of dinner and dessert.”
“Breeding,” he said, handing her the loaf and then taking her straight into his arms. She giggled and turned in his arms. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and they walked into her apartment together.
“Wow,” Blake said, taking in the space again. He’d been here last weekend to help her move in. All of his brothers had come to help, as had Gina’s brother-in-law and her father. They’d gotten everything in over the course of a few hours, and Blake had ordered food and helped her unpack until evening.
He hadn’t been back since, and the clean, crisp, cactus-y scent hadn’t been here then. A couple of candles burned on the credenza she’d positioned along the back of the couch. There wasn’t a loveseat to go with it, because the apartment wasn’t quite big enough for it.
“The new recliner looks great,” Blake said, his eyes landing on the floral print. Blues, greens, and grays swirled around, and they matched the denim couch.
“Look at the rug.” Gina went around the couch and indicated it. The front feet of the recliner sat on the cream-colored rug with long plies, and a television stand had been pressed against the wall. The TV sat dark, and Blake sure did like the aesthetic of the room.
“It’s great,” he said. “Things really look different with curtains and furniture, don’t they?” He grinned at Gina, who turned toward the kitchen.
“I painted my table and chairs,” she said. “So they match.” She ran her hand along the now-blue items in the tiny dining room, which she’d already set with placemats, utensils, and a vase of live flowers that spoke to her level of detail.
“They look great,” he said, following her. “It smells great in here too.” He got sugar, spices, and her sweet perfume. All of it made his head spin, and Blake caught Gina’s hand as she walked into the kitchen. She turned back to him and put her free hand against his chest. “I’ve missed you this week,” he murmured.
“This might not be as good as the food at the lodge,” she said as he brought her closer to him.
“Are you kidding?” He looked at the spread on the countertop in her kitchen. Small plates of food already sat there, and his mouth watered at the sight of the chicken wings, brisket and potatoes, and asparagus spears. The next three plates held desserts, each one featuring chocolate. “This looks absolutely amazing.”
He focused on her again. “Thank you for doing this. Thanks for inviting me. I love you place, and I…I’m starving.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, which curved up into a smile.
“There’s only one plate with veggies,” she teased, releasing his hand so he could plant it on her lower back and hold her close.
“Mm.” He dipped closer to her, his heart pounding down into his stomach and up into his ears. “Do you kiss your friends, Gina?” He touched his lips to her lower jaw, the desire to taste her lips beyond anything he’d felt before.
She cradled his face in her hands, her touch light and delicate. If they’d been dating for several months, he’d categorize it as loving and kind. He moved his eyes back to hers, where they locked. The question he’d asked streamed between them, and Gina nodded.
Blake smiled and slid one hand up her back and into her hair. He let his eyes drift closed as he inched toward her, praying he still knew how to kiss a woman. His lips touched hers, and instant heat exploded down his throat.
He hung on, trying to experience the touch, the taste, and the thrill of kissing her in that very moment. Then the next. She kissed him back, her fingers sliding behind his ears and into his hair, and Blake knew he’d never kiss another woman and feel the way he did about Gina Barlow.
Never, ever, ever.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Gina had always felt adored and cherished when Blake kissed her as a teenager. He’d grown and changed over the years, and his kiss echoed that maturity. He didn’t rush, and he knew exactly where and how to move his mouth against hers.
She breathed in, trying to get even nearer to him when she already stood as close as she possibly could. Her cells burned as if someone had lit them on fire, and she’d never be able to walk into her kitchen without reliving this kiss.
He pulled away, and they breathed in together. The first time he’d kissed her, he’d been shy and nervous. He’d chuckled and actually asked her if she was okay. Tonight, their eyes met, and there was no nerves in his expression at all. No chuckles and no questions.
Blake reached up and brushed her hair back out of her face, his eyes traveling the arc his hand made. He hadn’t backed up a single centimeter, and neither had she. Her head still spun slightly from the beauty in that kiss, and she didn’t want to move quite yet.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and Gina had enough time to breathe in before he kissed her again.
She’d been hungry before, but everything else fell away under this man’s touch, and Gina could’ve kissed him for a good long while. Unfortunately, he pulled away again, took a big breath, and let his stomach tell her why.
It roared at the two of them, and that brought the chuckles and giggles to the kitchen. She clung to him while she laughed, and once she’d found her strength she stepped back and looked at the food.
“All right,” she said. “I think most of this is still edible.” She turned to the cream puffs. “Wait. I was going to put cream on those.” She opened the fridge, where the door almost hit the island behind her, and got out the bowl of whipped cream. Lucky for her, she’d put it in the fridge before all the kissing started. It would probably be melted if she hadn’t.
She dolloped cream on each of the six puffs already filled, dipped, and sugared, and admired them. “There.”
