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He was head over heels for the woman, and he didn’t care who knew it as long as she did.
“Oh.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, baby,” he whispered, smiling when she ducked her head and blushed.
“Um, to you too. So, you cook?”
Her big blue eyes grew impossibly bigger as she took in the food. She smiled and reached for a piece of crust that was hanging just a touch over the pie tin, moaning when she slipped the morsel between her lips. Pride filled him. She liked it! Well, damn. That had definitely been worth the effort.
“Yes, I dabble. Do you?”
“Nope. I’m afraid I can’t boil water. It’s one of my many failings, I’m told,” she confessed in a self-deprecating way that he didn’t really care for.
“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, baby, but I sure as fuck don’t see any failings when I look at you.”
He met her stare and watched as emotions flit across her features. Shock, confusion, hope, awe, and something else, too. Good. Jasper wanted her to know how amazing she was. He started making her dish and presented it to her with a flourish.
“Toast?”
“Please. We have rye,” she said, and he went to make it.
“Will you eat with me?” she inquired when he came back.
“Sure, just let me grab this” he told her when the toaster popped up.
He spread some honey butter on the toasted rye bread and returned to sit down beside her. She wiggled a little as if to give him room, but the kitchen was snug, and all she did was rub her exposed thigh against his jean clad one.
Immediately, Jasper got hard.
Fucking hell.
He was going to explode. Being near her and unable to touch her was going to be difficult. Hell, it might even kill him, but he knew he had to try. Maybe if he explained the situation, she would understand and forgive him. Then maybe he would have her permission to touch her everywhere.
Please gods, Santa, or whoever the heck is out there listening.
“This is really good,” she said, and nibbled on a piece of bacon.
“How about the quiche?” he asked and waited for her to take a bite.
The moan that escaped her lips had his balls tightening uncomfortably in his jeans. He needed to invest in some dang sweatpants. Could barely control his body around her, nevermind his beast, who quietly watched her from within.
He was intent on her every move. Desire was a constant hunger, and he wanted her so badly. There was no denying it.
“Ohmygah!” Carolina moaned. “This is fabulous. How do you get the crust so flaky?”
“Huh? Oh, I cut cold butter and cream cheese into tiny little cubes, along with some fresh herbs and sea salt, then I knead and fold the dough several times to get it like that.”
“Well, it is wonderful. I can’t believe you cook.” Caro took another moaning mouthful, and he got even harder, if possible. “Did someone put you together from a catalog or something?”
“What?” Jasper choked, just managing to swallow the coffee he’d sipped without spitting it out through his nose.
That would have been so attractive.
“Mmm.” She moaned happily again and blushed when she answered him. “You’re just, you know,you.”
“No, I don’t know. What do you mean?” Jasper asked, honestly confused.
“Oh, come on, you know you’re hot, so don’t go fishing for compliments with me. And you’re strong, and you can cook, and do, um, other things really good,” she mumbled the last bit, and he was really grinning now.
