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“What do you think of it?”
“Major points for creativity,” he said. “And I like the caterpillar. I also readWhere the Wild Things Are.”
“My favorite picture book.” A rush of tenderness toward him filled her. “I love the ending where Max wants to be where—”
“Someone loves him best of all,” Adam finished. “Me too.”
Their eyes met, and a current crackled through the air. Bee’s pulse jumped upward, and a sudden longing filled her—one she’d tried to suppress for years.
But it was still there, hovering beneath the guard she tried to keep in place. A longing for a home, family, togetherness. Love.
She tore her gaze from Adam and pushed the feeling aside again.
“You don’t happen to have a tablecloth, do you?” she asked, keeping her voice light as she opened the basket.
“Unfortunately, no. I don’t have any candles either, but…” Adam picked up his laptop from a nearby shelf, searched on the browser, and brought up a video playing a loop of a burning candle.
He set the video to full screen and put the laptop on the table, then dimmed the overhead lights. The video candle flickered and burned brightly.
“Best I can do,” he said apologetically.
“Your best is much better than most.”
They exchanged another smile and began to set out the plates and silverware.
Although all of their dinners together had been enjoyable, now—without constant reminders of the ghost or the production hanging over them—it was like they had the freedom to devote their full attention to each other. They ate and talked—their conversation flowing so comfortably that again Bee was struck by how easy it was to be with him.
Whatever Destiny had read into Adam’s “snarled” energies was obviously wrong. Bee had never met a man who was so straightforward and unapologetic about who he was.
As they finished up the stuffed mushrooms and fig-and-brie crostini, she opened a box of homemade chocolate truffles and slid it across the table to him.
“These look amazing.” He picked one out of the box with its white fluted paper and peered closely at the intricate piping design. “They’re like little works of art. Where did you learn how to make truffles?”
“YouTube videos and practice.” She put all the containers back into the basket. “I’m sure you know baking contains a lot of science, especially when it comes to chocolate and sugar.”
“And it’s one of the few times when I don’t care about the science.” He bit into the truffle and made a deep rumble of pleasure.
The sound ignited a flicker of heat in Bee’s veins. She closed the lid of the basket as he devoured a cocoa-dusted truffle, then one decorated with sprinkles.
He picked up another one at the same time that Bee reached out to brush a purple sprinkle off his lower lip. He stopped in mid-motion, his gaze colliding with hers.
“You’re kind of a messy eater.” She collected the sprinkle on her forefinger and held it up to show him. “Which isn’t a criticism. I like that you enjoy food.”
“I enjoy your food.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist. Her pulse thumped as he brought her finger to his mouth and licked the sprinkle off. “But not nearly as much as I enjoyyou.”
Her breath caught. He didn’t release her wrist, but she didn’t want him to. Slowly, she ran her forefinger across his lower lip. His eyes darkened. He slid out of the bench seat and stood, pulling her to her feet.
For a moment, he just looked at her as the air between them filled with questions that already had answers. Supported by so muchproof.
She stepped toward him, closing the distance. He slipped his hand to her lower back as their lips met in a rush of warmth and pleasure. He kissed her so easily, as if he were made to kiss her alone, a gentle pressure that deepened into a slow, tantalizing rhythm.
Desire unfurled in every part of her body. She cupped the back of his neck, slid her fingers into his hair, and pressed herself fully up against him.
Any misgivings she’d had about getting too attached to Adam disappeared, burned away by the heat that drenched them both. Within minutes, he was guiding her to the bed at the back of the trailer.
He let her go, as if giving her the chance to move away or even to leave, but Bee hadn’t been so certain of something in a very long time. She wanted this. Wanted him. She sank onto the bed and grabbed the front of his T-shirt, pulling him down on top of her.
Their mouths crashed together again—this time, with a new flare of urgency. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
