Page 59 of The Way We Touch
“Like what?” I’m a little breathless.
“He said you should go to culinary school.”
“Oh,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “I don’t have to go to culinary school to learn new recipes. That’s why God made YouTube.”
A low laugh rumbles in his chest, and it’s a vibration straight to my core. “Maybe you can teach me some new recipes. Something other than ghost peppers.”
“I can do that.” I give him a little wink. “I’ll take it easy on you.”
“Not too easy.” He leans closer. “I like my girl to have an edge.”
“Your girl?”
“That’s what I said.” He’s so close, his fresh, citrusy scent surrounds me.
My lips are heavy, and I reach up to tug the front of his shirt, bringing him closer. “Do you mean me?”
“You know I do.”
Rising onto my tiptoes, I seal my lips to his. His hand goes around my waist, and he pulls me flush against his hard body. His mouth opens mine, and when our tongues slide together, I exhale an aching whimper.
He groans in response, and heat saturates my core. I rise higher, pressing my body closer as I thread my fingers in his soft hair. I wrap my arms around his neck, and for a moment, it’s as if we’re melting together. It’s only us and the touch of skin against skin, the warmth of our lips pulling each other’s.
His hand finds the bare skin at my waist, and I arch my back. I want him to move that hand under my shirt, lift my bra and play with my breasts, but a loud laugh from inside the restaurant cuts through the haze.
“Fuck,” he groans, moving his lips to my eyebrow. He kisses my forehead and the top of my head before wrapping me in a hug. “I can’t get enough of you.”
My cheek is buried against his chest, and my eyes close as I hold him, inhaling his body all around me. I know the feeling, but I also know I’ve got two brothers inside and a restaurant full of people.
“I’d better get back in there.” I lift on my tiptoes once more to kiss his lips. “I’m looking forward to our date.”
“Wear a dress.”
The naughty grin on his lips is another flash of heat to my slippery core, and I drop my chin with a laugh. “I will.”
Hurrying through the dining hall, I give the place a quick sweep before heading into the kitchen where Thomas is at the stove. Craig is at the sink rinsing a large pot with the hand sprayer.
He’s dancing and singing along to an old Indigo Girls song, and when he sees me, he lets out a loud, “She boned him!”
“Craig!” I yelp, going straight to him, lifting my hand like I’ll grab his mouth.
He turns fast, holding the nozzle at me like a gun. “Don’t make me spray you.”
“Stop saying that—Kimmie will hear!”
“She doesn’t know what it means.” He finishes up with the pot.
“No, but she’ll repeat it, and her uncles know what it means.”
That makes him snort. “Logan is a brave man… but you’re worth the beat-down they’ll give him.”
“Nobody’s beating anybody. We’re going on a real date, and we have not had intercourse.”
“Don’t play games with me, Danger-girl.” His eyes narrow. “You’ve had something. You’re glowing.”
Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I look in the mirror over the sink. I can’t see a difference, but I do feel happy, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it to Monday.
Craig’s face appears over my shoulder, and his teasing expression is gone. He’s studying me with all seriousness. It’s a look I haven’t seen since my injury.