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Helaughed softly. “Ifyou had any idea what you saying those things did to me…”Hehuffed out a breath, clearly reaching for some reserve of control, and stepped away from her. “Comeon,” he said after she’d retrieved her wine and her hand was firmly tucked in his again. “Youcan tell me about how writing went today whileIcook.”
Theyheaded back down to the kitchen, andHazelsettled in at the island in the center of the kitchen whileAdamrummaged in the fridge, examining ingredients with an ease and confidence that was very, very sexy.
“Iwould offer to help, butI’mpretty useless in the kitchen.”
“Youdon’t need to do anything but enjoy your wine and tell me about your day.”Heopened the fridge again, bracing his palms against the top while he peered inside.Everysingle thing he did was like an electrical shock to her system, making her feel overly warm and squirmy. “Doyou likeItalian?Icould make pasta alfredo.”
“Fromscratch?” she asked, and there was another one of those little shocks.
“Sure.It’seasy.”
“Soundsdelicious.”
Helaid the ingredients out on the counter – a block of parmesan cheese, butter, fresh linguine.Thenhe turned on the smallBlueToothspeaker on the counter and connected his phone to it.Soft, mellow jazz floated through the air, andHazelnever wanted this night to end.
Hemoved to the sink and washed his hands. “Isaw you typing away for a good chunk of the day,” he said, drying his hands on a kitchen towel and then tossing it over his shoulder.Herolled up his sleeves and retrieved a cheese grater from one of the cabinets. “Lookedlike you were making good progress on something.”
Hazelsipped her wine. “Itook your advice and started writing something totally new.Somethingthat intrigued me and got my creative juices flowing.And, most importantly,Ithink, somethingSethhasn’t had his hands or eyes on.Becauseyou’re right.Writingfor him, with him, whatever, is totally stifling my creativity.Ican’t get out of my head long enough to get into the flow, you know?”
Henodded, listening intently as he set a pot of water to boil and then returned to the island, where he started grating the parmesan into a bowl with practised ease.Shesipped her wine and stared at him as he worked, his corded forearms flexing.Aftera moment, he glanced up at her, one of his curls falling across his forehead.Theireyes met and a blast of heat poured throughHazel.
Ha, and she’d thought she might not sleep with him tonight.Obviouslyshe was going to.Thetruth was, she wantedAdammore than she’d wanted anything in a long time.Wantedhis mouth on her, his hands on her, his body moving inside hers.
“Whatare you thinking about?” he asked, a heated look on his face that indicated he knew exactly what she was thinking about.
“You.”
Asexy grin spread across his face. “Tellme about what you wrote today.”
Shegave him a detailed rundown of the story she’d started, withMaryElizabethAxton, the time travel element, and her rescue by a soldier in 1864.
“Ihave no idea whereI’mgoing with it,” she said, almost a little breathlessly.Adamdumped the linguine into the now boiling water, still listening intently. “Butfor the first time in a long time,I’mactually enjoying writing again.”
Shewatched as he took a soup ladle and spooned a small amount of the pasta water into a large skillet, then tossed in a mouthwatering amount of butter, letting it melt and mixing it with the water.
“CanIread it?” he asked, stirring the pasta, and then removing it from the boiling water with a set of tongs.Sheloved watching him move.AdamShephardwas thick in all the right places.Massivearms, broad chest, muscular ass, tree trunk thighs.Evenhis hands were huge, with thick, strong fingers that she—
“Hazel?” he asked, his voice bringing her out of her drool-inducing staring.Sheblinked rapidly and took a long sip of her wine.
“Sorry, what?” she asked, feeling her cheeks warm.She’dtotally been caught ogling him, and she didn’t care.Shewanted him to know that she wanted him.
“CanIread the chapters you wrote today?”
Shesat up a little straighter. “Youwant to?”
Henodded. “Definitely.Thestory sounds fascinating.Ialready knowI’dread that book.”
“Sure.I’llemail them to you.”Sheheaded back to the front hall, pulled her phone out of her purse and quickly pulled up the document she’d been working on earlier that day. “What’syour email address?” she called down the hallway.
“[email protected],” he called back, and she entered it quickly and hit send, her heart throbbing in her chest.Shedidn’t normally share her work with someone else while it was still in such an early stage, but withAdameverything was different, in a good way.
WithAdam,shewas different.Itwas as though he brought out a version of herself she hadn’t known existed.Oneshe liked.Alot.
SIXTEEN
Hazelreturned to the kitchen,sipping her wine and watching asAdamstirred the cooked noodles into the water and butter, then removed the pan from the heat and started sprinkling the parmesan on.Onceit was all mixed together, he gave it a couple of casual tosses that hadHazelsquirming in her seat.
“There’sno rush,” she managed, her eyes glued to his capable hands. “Toread the chapters,Imean.”
