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He turned and faced her. “I slept in your bed. You weren’t here and I’ve...”
He didn’t have to finish the sentence. A soft gasp indicated she knew what he was going to say.
“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to. I’ll heat the pie, you get the plates,” he muttered, not looking at her again. He shouldn’t touch her. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“What about a salad?” she asked.
“Sounds fine.” He knew he sounded short and rude, but rather that than doing what all his instincts were urging him to do: pick her up, take her upstairs, and make love to her for the rest of the night.
––––––––
Lindsay made a salad. The simple task took longer than usual; her hands weren’t very steady. He’d missed her—was that what he was he was going to say?
Oh, my goodness. How was she supposed to make a salad and not cut herself after seeing the light in those chocolate brown eyes? Strange currents in the kitchen were making her flustered and excited and nervous—all at the same time. But by some miracle, by the time the microwave oven pinged, indicating the pie was hot, the salad was ready, too.
Blake poured them each a glass of wine before he sat down opposite her.
“Tell me about your plans for selling your oils online.”
She was taking a sip of wine and looked at him over the rim of the glass. “You’re not really interested in oils and creams, are you?”
He looked up. “It’s something to talk about.”
“Why don’t you rather tell me about yourself? You’ve mentioned you grew up in the system. What did you do after school? Did you go to college? And what was your previous job? The one you still seem to be involved in. You know just about everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”
Lifting his glass, he took a sip of his wine. “Not much to tell. Boring story. I was in the system until Miss Betty O’Hara saved my sorry ass. When she died, I joined the army. Studied through them, and well, that’s about it.”
He’d used about a minute to sum up his life’s story, but because she knew him by now, she could sense the world of hurt behind his words. Her heart was breaking for the little boy who hadn’t had a home.
“Don’t look at me like that; my life is better than most,” he said. “Tell me about your parents. Charlie mentioned at some point they’d died in an accident?”
She nodded and briefly told him about the accident in which her parents had been killed and Charlie had been injured. “And it was during that time I met Mark.”
He nodded. “You were vulnerable—he took advantage of that.”
“By the time I realized his behavior was abusive, he’d stripped me of my self-confidence. I was at a point where I was agreeing with him how stupid I was—a word he often used. He didn’t like my friends or my sister, so at the time, I hadn’t seen them for over a year.”
“But you managed to walk away,” Blake said, reaching out over the table to pick up her hand. “That was a very brave thing to do.”
She shook her head, looking at their entwined fingers. “I didn’t feel very brave. But Charlie was great.”
“So are you. You’re anything but stupid. Stubborn, ornery, difficult, yes, but not stupid.” He grinned and dropped her hand. He got up. “Why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll clean up here and make sure everything is locked.”
“Ornery? Stubborn, and what was it? Oh, yes, difficult? No wonder you’re still single, if those are the lines you use.”
He turned his back on her. “Lindsay...please go to bed.”
“I’ll help,” she said, and got up.
“It’s better if you don’t.”
She ignored him and picked up her plate. But before she could move, he’d stepped closer and was right in front of her. His eyes were slits, his teeth clenched together. “Please leave.” He tried to take the plate from her but she wouldn’t let go.
“Seriously, Blake, I can help clean the kitchen...” But that was as far as she got.
He swooped down and captured her lips with his before her next breath. This time, fireworks went off behind her eyelids, hot lava exploded inside her, and she let go of the plate so that she could touch him.
But he’d already lifted his head and had the plate in his hand. “Thank you,” he said and put the plate down on the table. “Now, please, beautiful, go up to your room before I pick you up, take you to my bed, and make love to you until neither of us can think straight.”
