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She was happy, he wouldn’t spoil it, but maybe he should leave earlier than planned. He needed to get his head back on straight, and stop trying to figure out what came next for them. He’d even considered asking her to come back with him on Sunday. What an idiot.
“When will dinner be ready, mon chef?”
“En quinze minutes, mon amour.”
“Wow, I should take you with me, do you speak Italian too? You’ll be my translator as well as my chef.”
“Is that all you’d have me for? Not your lover too?”
“Mais, oui, mon amoureux d’abord.”
“Your lover first, until what? You grow weary of me?”
“I will never grow weary of you, Ben
.”
She wouldn’t? He was relieved to hear it. Liv had him wrapped around her finger so tight, he didn’t recognize himself. Never had a woman affected him this way. He controlled the situation, got what he wanted, pulled away when he wanted. He’d never had a woman turn the tables on him, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Liv walked over to the wine cooler, pulled out a bottle, and then put it back. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.
“You can have a glass of wine. Do what you would usually do. If you’d have wine with dinner, have it. I’m very comfortable in my sobriety, Liv.”
“Are you sure?”
“I work in my family’s bar, and tour with a band. I needed to learn how to live my life being around alcohol. I just can’t drink it.”
“This is another thing I don’t know how to do.”
“Do what you’d normally do, Liv, and everything will be fine. If I’m having a problem, I’ll say so. Deal?”
“Deal.” She walked back to the wine cooler. “What’s for dinner?”
“Balsamic chicken.”
“Hmm…” She pulled out a bottle of Bordeaux and opened it. “You make it so easy on me. Everything. Are you this way all the time?”
He laughed. “I’m never this way. I have an ex-wife who’d be more than happy to confirm it.”
“So this won’t last?” As soon as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. “That isn’t what I meant, it came out wrong.”
“I’ll see if I can figure out a way you can make it up to me.” He put his lips on hers, pulling her against him. “After dinner.”
Liv rested her elbows on the table. “You weren’t kidding, were you? You would make a great chef. It would be a tragic waste of the rest of your talents, but wow, you can cook. I’m beginning to realize you’re extraordinarily good at everything.”
“Like this? Am I good at this?” Ben pulled her up from the table, and set her on top of the wide, cold, granite island. His hands went straight to the button on her jeans and pulled them off in one swoop. He grabbed the hem of her shirt, pushed it up, and then pulled it over her head. Next he reached behind her and unfastened her bra. All she had left on were her panties and they were the next to go. “Lift up,” he said as he pulled them from under her bottom, tossing them into the pile of clothes scattered on her kitchen floor.
“I’m ready for dessert,” he said as he lowered her until she rested on the granite. He stood in front of her and spread her legs.
“Ben.”
“Shh, the no talking rule is back in effect.” He kissed down her stomach, and then moved to the inside of her thighs. First one and then the other. She breathed in deeply, arching her back away from the coldness of the counter, bending into his warmth as he buried his mouth inside her.
“It’s such a beautiful night. Should we go for a walk in the moonlight?” She and Ben were sitting in front of the fire in the family room.
“Let’s stay right here…and talk.” He laughed to himself. When had he become such a big talker?
“What do you want to talk about?”
