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“YES.” He tilted his head to look at her. The softness in his face melted all its sharp angles. (And Allison’s heart, too.) She moved forward to kiss him, their mouths joining deep and slow. His hand glided up her back to anchor her to him. It would have been incredibly romantic were Monty not between them, taking turns licking their necks.
Laughing, Allison sat back. “We should deal with dinner.”
Colin’s eyes lit up. “Let’s cook.”
“Uh, that is not one of my skills.”
He winked (his damned winks were as absurd as all his leaning). “But it’s one of mine.”
In ten minutes, he’d rifled through every shelf in Allison’s kitchen, pantry, and fridge, and had rustled up the ingredients for carbonara. They marched along the small counter like an army ready for battle.
“We have pasta,” Allison said as she watched Colin create mounds of flour on the granite and hollow out little craters in the center.
“The fresh stuff is so much better.” He cracked an egg into one of the holes and began to swirl it with a fork, being careful to keep the hill of flour from toppling over. “Come help.”
“Pass.” Allison’s skills in the kitchen included burning toast and soup, as well as causing cereal to go soggy too quickly.
One of Colin’s floured hands tugged her gently to the counter. A cuff of white powder remained around her wrist in its wake as he situated himself behind her. Resting his chin to her temple, he guidedher hands, showing her how to swirl the egg to grab a little more flour every time. Once it had turned into a paste-like consistency, he used her hands to work the dough. Allison was trying to pay attention but with his hips locked solidly against hers, the slow rocking motion they made as they rolled the dough this way and that was distracting (to say the least). Her whole body tingled with want.
She faced him, her mucked-up hands clutching the hem of his shirt. She needed him closer, as many parts of his body as possible jammed up against hers.
He was brushing a few strands of her long bangs out of her face when Allison’s phone let out a wail, and the two jumped apart.
“Leave it.” Allison’s fingers snatched for his shirt again, but he’d already crossed the kitchen to check the caller ID.
He shoved up his glasses with the back of his hand. “It’s your mom.”
“My hands are gross. I’ll call her back.” This was no time for a Jed update or a guilt trip. Not when Allison ached to have Colin’s spindly frame mashed against her.
He grinned. “Or I could just answer.”
“Wait, no—”
“Hey, Mrs. Av—”
Damnit.
“Right, sorry. Cassandra.” Colin hooked the phone between his shoulder and his cheek and ran his hands under the faucet. “She’s right here, but we’re in the middle of making fresh pa—”
Whatever Allison’s mother said sent Colin’s head snapping back with a laugh. “No, for real. Who would have imagined? She’s catching on, though.”
Allison crossed her arms, giving Colin her most impatient glare. She wasnotokay with them bonding over her less-than-stellar cooking skills.
He offered her a sheepish grin. “Do you want me to give her a message?” Allison caught snippets of her mother’s voice between Colin’snods. “Yep. Okay. Got it. I’ll make sure she calls you back when she’s not elbow-deep in flour and egg.”
As he ended the call, Allison returned to the pasta dough and began kneading it like bread. “I can’t believe you answered that.”
“Whoa. Whoa.” He rushed over and placed his hands over hers to stop their motion. “That pasta is going to be the consistency of car tires if you keep that up. I’ll take it from here.” With a spin like they were waltzing, he moved her from her spot. “I thought you and your mother were tight?” His hands fluttered around the counter like neurotic butterflies that had just discovered their purpose.
Shrugging, Allison pulled herself up on a clean bit of counter space. “We are.”
“Then why wouldn’t you want to talk to her?”
She grabbed a small piece of discarded dough and balled it between her fingers. “Because all she wants to talk about lately is Jed.” She tossed the dough at the sink. It hit the metal basin with an echoingthunk.“I need a break.”
“Ah. Fair enough.”
When she threw the next dough ball, her aim went wild, and it bounced off Colin’s temple, knocking his glasses askew. In the fit of laughter that erupted from her, she banged her own head against the cabinet.
