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I hadn’t fucked a woman for a long time, so I blamed my cock for the way my breath sped up and how much I yearned to reach over and trace the back of my fingers along her soft cheek and whisper in her ear all the dirty things I could do to her to pass the time during the storm. I suspected she’d blush at my words, something that excited me so fucking much, I had to get out of the laundry before I had her pinned to the wall.
“We need light.” She practically jumped away from me, flicked on the lights, and returned while she tore a piece of the tape with her teeth. She avoided looking at me, her face turning slightly red.
I grinned, well aware she had felt that moment of heat between us.
Taking my hand, she placed the tape across my splinter, gently pushing it down, then going in the same direction as the wood had jammed into my skin.
“Where’d you learn this trick?” I asked, having never seen anyone do this.
“Google,” she replied, giving me a sassy look as if her answer was obvious.
These small snippets of her fun personality when she wasn’t hiding behind fear were calling to me, and as crazy as it sounded, I wanted to know more about this gorgeous girl who crashed into my mailbox.
“Are you ready? It won’t hurt,” she said, gripping the tape on one end between her fingers.
“Ye–”
She ripped the tape back viciously, and I felt a slight pinch from the splinter.
“There… done,” she claimed, sounding proud of herself. We stared down at the underside of the tape. The splinter was a long fucker.
“I like your style… don’t give the patient time to overthink it.”
She shrugged, rolling up the piece of tape. “It worked.” When she strolled out of the room, my eyes automatically dropped to the curvy ass I swore she swung on purpose.
A couple of hours later, the storm worsened, the howling wind crashing into the house. Snow was coming down heavily, making it hard to see the front yard. No one would be on the road in this weather.
Amelia was making spaghetti sauce to go with dinner, looking comfortable in the kitchen and having already found where everything was. She tried to draw me out as she chopped up the vegetables she put into the sauce, but I grunted out simple replies. I’d watched the interest grow on her face as the day progressed. Reading books to pass the time, I’d look up to find her watching me.
“Hope you like my pasta sauce,” she said with a grin.
For those few seconds, I wondered what it would be like to have someone in my life to share everything with and not be alone all the time. The thought warmed me. It wasn’t the first time I’d contemplated such things.
But the baggage I carried wouldn’t work.
I wasn’t going to tell her anything about my life or the fact that I was a very terrible man. I had to live with her until the storm that raged outside passed, then we’d part ways. Until then, I needed her calm, but on the bright side, I had gorgeous company while we were stuck indoors.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked, turning back to stir the sauce.
“No,” I said, with a terse air. “My mind was elsewhere for a moment.”
“Fine,” she said and let the matter drop.
Dinner was quiet because I couldn’t stop eating. The meal was spectacular.
“You cook up mean spaghetti sauce. You’ll have to leave me the secret recipe,” I said, wiping the last bits of sauce with a slice of bread, certain I could eat two more bowls.
“Really, you liked it? My ex only ever said it wasn’t enough, but never what was wrong with it. It’s my favorite since it’s my grandma’s recipe. She taught me to make it when I was ten after moving in to live with her after I lost my parents.” Her lips pulled to the corner of her mouth as she glanced down at her plate.
Something squeezed my heart to hear the tragedy this poor woman had been through, and she still kept on smiling.
“You know she had a saying,” Amelia pipped up, lifting her gaze.
“Yeah?”
“Only cook when you’re happy. She’d say that her bolognese sauce had ordinary ingredients like so many out there, but what brought her alive was the love she put into it. So, she insisted if I cooked when I was angry, the food wouldn’t taste good.”
“Maybe she was onto something. I watched how happy you looked making this dish, and it’s the best dish I’ve tasted in a long time.”
