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He met my gaze hesitantly. “I could eat. You sure you don’t mind? It’s late and you’ve had Joey all day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a sandwich. Come on.” I led him into my tiny kitchen and he perched on one of the two barstools that made up what I called the dining room, even though it was nothing but an extended counter that overlooked the main room. I got out lunch meat, cheese, mayonnaise, and mustard and put everything in front of him before slicing a roll in half and putting it on a plate.
“Something to drink? I think I have water and one bottle of Corona, but you’re welcome to it.”
He chuckled. “Water’s good. Thanks.”
I got him a bottle of water while he made his sandwich and then we were quiet for a few minutes.
“This really hit the spot,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and downing the rest of his water. “I slept on the plane and didn’t get dinner. I was hungrier than I thought.”
“Glad I could help.” I put the dish and knife he’d used in the sink, surprised to find him behind me as I turned.
“Hey.”
Holy shit, he was really close.
Close enough to catch the faint scent of a woodsy aftershave.
“I want to explain what happened when I dropped you off that night,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on mine.
“I understand,” I whispered.
“No, you don’t.” He lifted a hand, gently brushing my hair back from my face. “I like you. You’re smart and beautiful and really brave. Walking out on your wedding that day took guts, which is something I respect.”
“I suspect there’s abutcoming,” I murmured, unable to tear my gaze away from his.
“Your father,” he said quietly. “He’s been crystal clear that his daughter is off-limits, and I’m not sure that’s a line I can cross.”
“I’m an adult,” I said. “A grown, independent woman who can make her own choices and decisions about who she spends her time with. Dad is going to have to get over this need to choose a husband for me. I can’t live my life like that and I don’t think you should let him control you either. There’s no reason we can’t be friends. Or whatever.”
“Or whatever?” A faint smile played on his lips as he continued to look down at me. “What kind of whatever are we talking about?”
“This kind.” With my grandmother’s words zinging through my subconscious and giving me courage, I leaned up and lightly pressed my lips to his.
“Mmm. I like your idea of whatever.” He slid his hands around my waist, drawing me closer. His fingers were gentle, holding me in place as he slanted his head over mine. Our lips parted this time, coming together with a sensual mixture of caution and curiosity.
I’d never made the first move like that before, but it felt right with Boone.
Kissing him was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. He was in no rush, brushing his lips across mine, across my cheek, under my chin, as if he could stand here and kiss me all night. And yet, there was an underlying urgency that left no doubt about his desire for me.
“Fuck, you taste sweet.” He put his hands on either side of my face. “I never want to stop kissing you, gorgeous…”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I’d like to take you out on a date,” he whispered, one hand palming my ass as the other dug into the hair at the base of my skull. “Dinner…” He trailed his tongue along my jaw, making goose bumps break out on my skin. “Maybe dancing…” His breath was warm against my cheek. “A nightcap at my place.”
“Mmm.” Words eluded me. He was barely touching me, yet my body tingled with arousal.
“Then—” He cut off abruptly as a cry came from the bedroom.
“Joey!” We moved in unison, rushing to my room and throwing open the door.
The boy was thrashing around on the bed, obviously having a nightmare, his little face screwed up in either pain or fear.
“Hey, buddy.” I slid into bed next to him, wrapping my arms around his small body. “Hey, wake up. It’s just a dream. Joey?”
His eyes snapped open and he jerked in surprise before recognition dawned and he relaxed against me.
