"It only took all day to get one decent batch made," Chess muttered to himself, frowning over the inexplicable problems they'd had since morning with quality control.
As soon as he opened the door to his office on the ground floor of the plant, though, his disgusted relief turned to joy. "Cookie." He smiled. "This is a nice surprise."
She was standing by his old desk. Hugging her every luscious curve was a soft dress in a turquoise color. She smiled back at him. It seemed a bit of a shy smile to Chess, not the smile of warm and overflowing affection for which he lived.
Observing it, he felt his own smile falter. Was something wrong? Was she upset with him? Fear briefly gripped his gut.
The fear struck him on a fairly regular basis now that she'd started sharing his bed. He figured it was only a matter of time before Cookie realized he wasn't as desirable as she now appeared to believe. She'd discover his fundamental flaw, his unlovability.
But there was no reason to anticipate the moment before it came.
Deliberately relaxing, Chess came up to kiss her. "I thought you were shooting this afternoon."
"We finished early." She lifted her chin for his kiss. Definitely not a rejection. "Thought I'd surprise you by dropping by, but I heard from your head tech it was a difficult day."
"Nasty," Chess admitted. He brushed his lips over her mouth again. "But it's getting better by the minute."
Cookie chuckled. "Henry said something went wrong with the chemical proportions. He seemed oddly cheerful about it, though."
"Henry has been cheerful about everything lately. I think he managed a deal refinancing his house or something."
At least, Chess hoped that's what had Henry cheerful, despite losing a day's production of perfume. He hoped it wasn't because Henry was actually Korman's inside man.
Chess had a strong suspicion that today's problems were the work of this saboteur. There was no other decent explanation for why quality control—Chess—had discovered today's batch of the perfume was subtly, but distinctly, wrong.
Korman had good reason to try something desperate. October sales for Scents Allure had been so good that if they stayed as high through November, the company would break even on the money spent on the launch. From there on out they'd be making a profit.
After discovering the mishap today, Chess had kept a sharp eye on Henry and everybody else, but too many people had had access to the tanks for Chess to narrow down the suspects. All it would have taken was a bottle of water to mess up the proportions.
On the other hand, mistakes happened. The messed-up batch could have been a true accident.
"Is it fixed now?" Cookie asked.
"It's just peachy." Chess drew her into his arms. This was not quite true, he admitted to himself. His need for Cookie, for example, continued to grow by leaps and bounds. The more time she spent as his wife, the more he felt his life intertwining with hers.
Not that he wouldn't be ready to hand her a divorce in January if she wanted one. He knew this was a possibility and was prepared to keep his word.
"I'm glad to hear it." Cookie snuggled comfortably in his arms. "Because there's something I wanted to show you." She sent him a coy look.
Chess raised his brows. She was clearly not about to reject him...today. "What is it?"
She held up one finger and then unwound from his arms to go over to the door.
Chess watched her, his earlier fear receding even further and, in fact, growing into a nice, heated arousal when Cookie made sure the blinds were closed and then locked the door.
So that's why she was here. Cookie had become rather adventurous in the sexual escapades they'd enacted at home over the past five weeks, but she'd never before seduced him at work.
Chess smiled. His difficult day was definitely taking a turn in the right direction.
"I went shopping on the way over here." After swiveling at the door, she sashayed back toward him.
"That sounds interesting." He could hear his voice start to go hoarse. Cookie had a taste for fancy lingerie.
She smiled, apparently knowing what it meant when his voice did that, and snuggled back into his arms. "You see, I've noticed how much you hate pantyhose."
He drew in a ragged breath. "You bought stockings."
Cookie reached out to gently rock his tie. "With a garter belt and everything."
The small movement of her hand on his tie was having a disproportionately large effect much lower down on Chess's body. "Which you are wearing now, I take it."
"You take it right." She gave a deep laugh and kissed his jaw. "But I'm not wearing quite everything."
"Holy—" Chess's hand smoothed over her rear end. The thin knit of her dress allowed him to feel the truth of her assertion. "Do you want to kill me?"
She looked up at him with a knowing smile. "You like?"
"I couldn't really say...yet." His lashes lowered as he palmed her nearly naked buttock. "Maybe I should take a look."
"Maybe you should." She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck and sucked gently while her hand went to the front of his trousers.
"Cookie—"
She got his fly open and put in her hand.
"Damn, you're good at this." Not the first time, Chess noted how very much Cookie adored sex. She was like a child with a new toy.
"Is that an objection?" There was a laugh in her voice.
"No way." But he did wonder. Was sex all she was getting out of this relationship? Was her sweet response to him simply gratitude for this new world he'd brought her?
Of course, it was pretty much all he'd offered her.
Cookie's hand around his erection caused the questions to drift away. Instead, he realized he didn't want to go off by himself here. Determined to include her in the game, he stepped back from her clever hand and lowered into his old desk chair. With his hands at Cookie's waist, he lifted her to straddle his thighs.
Her dress hiked up enough he could see the top of her stockings. Meanwhile, her scent told him how very aroused she was herself. How he'd love a private bottle of that.
"Nice," he breathed, and slid his hands under the hem of her dress, pushing it up and out of the way. And then he couldn't breathe at all. The sight of her dark curls framed by the garter belt and straps made him want to do far more with her than they'd be able to accomplish in his office chair. "Damn, you did a good job shopping."
Cookie put her lips against his. "Prove it."
He felt a chuckle in his chest even as his hand went to the center of her curls.
She was so hot, already wet. She opened her mouth against his and moaned when his fingers found her delicate flesh.
"I think we can— Yeah," Chess murmured, moving his hand to take her by the hips and raise her.
She rode down him slowly, her eyes widening. "You feel so good."
He was practically ready to come just from the look in her eyes. "So do you, honey." What made him particularly excited, however, even more than the erotic garter belt, was the fact he wasn't using a condom. Again.
Usually, he was conscientious about protection. Usually. But when Cookie came at him with these spontaneous seductions, he felt he had the right to get careless.
For all he knew, she was using her own birth control. But maybe she wasn't. The mere idea drove him wild.
Holding her hips, he thrust his tongue thick in her mouth and himself inside her. God, she was perfect. Snug and welcoming and sexy as hell. And if he could get her pregnant, there'd be no question regarding January. She'd be indisputably his forever.
His blood went hot, and he thrust hard and fast. It didn't take long before he could feel her coming to a climax. He knew her body so well now, all its needs and ways. At the right moment, he swallowed her cry with his mouth and let his seed shoot into her.
The pleasure that washed over him in that moment was so intense it felt criminal.
"Hold me," Cookie murmured in his ear. She held him tight herself. "Oh, Chess, please hold me."
He held her. He never wanted to let her go.
At length, Cookie released a long, shuddering sigh. "What you do to me." She chuckled and kissed the side of his jaw. "You are marvelous."
Really? How marvelous? God, he wanted to know.
"I have a question." She slid a teasing finger under the lapel of his jacket. "Have I gotten you feeling all indulgent yet?"
Chess laughed. "I'm feeling pretty damn indulgent. What do you want?"
She raised her eyes cautiously. "A turkey?"
"A turkey?"
"For Thanksgiving. You make."
"Ah." He cocked his head. "How many people is this turkey supposed to feed?"
Her guilty expression told him the answer before she admitted it. "Four."
"Four." Chess sighed, disengaged their bodies, and shifted her off his lap.
Cookie stood and adjusted her dress while he zipped his fly.
"I hope you're talking about Luther and Ruth," Chess said.
Cookie sat back on his lap to straighten his collar. "Luther and his boyfriend were invited already to some other friends. Ruth is going back East to her family."
Chess met Cookie's gaze. "We cannot invite Alex and Kate."
"Why not?"
He felt like an ogre at the pained look in her eyes. "All right. You can invite them. But they won't come."
"Sure they will. You underestimate your influence in this family."
He had to laugh at that. "Right." He had zero influence. All right, contrary to his fears, Alex had not gotten beat up again. Almost as good, Kate no longer received phone calls from N.J. Williams, or at least not at work. But Chess didn't take credit for any of this good news. Nor did it directly bear on his relationship with either relative.
"You and your mother have been getting along better recently, haven't you?" Cookie observed. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled if we invited her for Thanksgiving."
"Well." Thrilled, he didn't think. But it was true that a new, highly tentative phase had begun in their relationship. It was if she wanted to make friends with him or something. "Even if Kate wanted to come, she won't because Alex won't."
Cookie pouted.
"He's not happy we're sleeping together." Chess stated the obvious out loud. He left out the part where Alex had accused Chess of hurting Cookie. When the end came, it was going to be the other way around.
"You're right." Cookie was still frowning as she met Chess's eyes. "And it's time to put an end to his little temper tantrum. Our involvement was as much my decision as yours, and Alex shouldn't be throwing blame around—as if anyone should be blamed for something that's won— Well, as if it's any of his business."
Chess didn't like the martial light that came into her eyes. "For at least five weeks, he's been resenting the hell out of me. And that's just the tip of a much older iceberg. You're not going to be able to fix this."
She lifted her chin. "Let's make a deal. You take care of the turkey. I'll see to filling the chairs at the table."
"Cookie—"
But she was already hopping off his lap.
He uncurled from his chair, trailing her to the door. "I don't want Alex blaming me that you're nagging him." The last thing he wanted was to come between Cookie and Alex and thus force her to choose between himself and her half-brother. He had a good idea where he'd come out in such an uneven contest.
"He won't," Cookie claimed.
He managed to catch her right before she opened the door, caging her between his arms. "Don't," he begged.
She twisted to face him with a hurt expression. "Have some faith in me, Chess." Then softening, she touched his jaw with one hand. "I'm going to take care of you."
His heart turned over in his chest. Oh, how he wanted to believe that could be true. That she could care for him and that it could last. He wanted it so badly his whole body ached. But it was so terribly unlikely. Nobody had ever cared for him.
So, deliberately making light of her words, he kicked his mouth into a half-smile. "You'll take care of me as long as I take care of the turkey, huh?"
A strange expression crossed her face, too briefly for him to interpret. Then she lowered her hand from his jaw with a perky smile. "So you'll do it?"
He sighed. "You bought stockings. I'll make the damn turkey."
She laughed. "For the record, I wasn't sure that would work."
If she only knew. All she had to do was smile like this, and he'd go to the ends of the earth for her.
"You won't be sorry," she promised, with commendable optimism, and brushed a domestic kiss against his cheek. "I'll see you later."
He closed his eyes at the small, infinitely precious, intimacy. "Yes, later," he said hoarsely.
With one last smile, Cookie turned.
At the door, Chess watched as she made her way down the side of the factory atrium. Considering how tight his chest felt, he understood perfectly well why he'd done his best to ignore her for the past twenty years. The woman was lethal.
Coming the other direction and crossing Cookie's path was Diana. She smiled a brief, polite greeting toward Cookie and continued on in his direction.
Chess couldn't see Cookie's response to Diana. Given that Cookie had suspected Diana of being his girlfriend, Chess had never admitted that Diana had once come on to him. He wondered if Cookie guessed as much anyway.
"Chess, have you fixed the problems with production?" Diana wanted to know as she approached. Her delicate brow was furrowed.
"We think we've got it under control." Chess's eyes lingered on the last sight of Cookie, going out to the lobby.
"You really love her, don't you?"
Chess stilled. Deliberately, he put on an easy smile as he turned. "I am rather fond of her." He gave one last, backward glance in the direction Cookie had taken before he walked into his office.
Diana followed. "You're in love. And I think that's great, Chess. I really do."
He raised a brow.
Diana's expression turned earnest. "Oh, I guess you know that I was attracted to you myself. But I can see the way things are between you and Cookie." She lowered her eyes.
Chess picked up a pen from the top of his desk and wished he knew. Just how were things between him and Cookie? It was possible she liked him more than he'd been willing to perceive. But was it enough? If he couldn't get her pregnant, might she stay anyway? By any stretch of the imagination?
"You'd be lost without her," Diana observed.
Chess averted his gaze. She was absolutely right.
~~~
Chess was doing his dance in the kitchen. His face was set in stark lines as he moved between the stove, the cutting board, and the refrigerator.
Cookie leaned against the sink, sipping a glass of water while she watched him.
Kate and Alex were expected any minute now, and Chess did not appear to be in the best of moods. This was not a good time, Cookie judged, to tell him her news. On the other hand, would any time be good? It wasn't like he was going to be happy no matter when she told him.
"Is the table set?" Chess stirred some vegetables that were simmering in something soy and pungent.
"It's set. I've got out the crudités and dip. Everything is ready."
"Except the turkey," Chess muttered, with a worried look toward the oven.
"We won't want to eat it right away anyhow," Cookie assured him. She wondered how to take Chess's anxiety about the family meal. Was he worried that everything turn out well or did he dread having to live through the evening? Probably a little bit of both.
Maybe she shouldn't have forced this dinner on him, she thought, looking down into the clear water in her glass. But she felt desperate to show Chess that families could work, including even his.
It had been almost two months since Chess had forbidden any discussion of love. Cookie knew she'd made zero progress in getting him to acknowledge that's what was actually going on between them. If anything, he seemed to be moving further away from such an acknowledgment. Whenever a conversation threatened to become serious or emotional, he would make jokes or turn things sexual.
If Cookie weren't certain he was actually scared, she might wonder if he didn't genuinely lack interest in a committed relationship. As it was, she understood his emotional trust in her was pretty much nil. He had come not an inch closer to believing Cookie could possibly care for him.
Privately, Cookie grimaced. This was not a man who was ready to start a family of his own. And if she'd exhibited an ounce of common sense seven weeks ago—
She was relieved of her ruminations by the doorbell. "I'll get it," she said and left the kitchen for the front door.
"Kate." Cookie embraced her mother-in-law.
Kate was wearing clothes in a similar vein to Chess's: a sweater of muted earth tones and brown slacks.
Alex, to his mother's side, was dressed more like Cookie, in jeans and a Cal pullover sweater. He gave Cookie a weak smile. It hadn't been nearly as hard as Cookie'd imagined to get him to come. In fact, he'd only become surly when she'd commented that he looked kind of pale and had asked if he was all right.
He was perfectly fine, he'd snapped back, and he'd go to her Thanksgiving dinner, so she should just lay off. Stunned by his tone, Cookie had been equally surprised by the immediate apology. He was sorry to have snapped at her, and he promised to be nice at her dinner, even to Chess.
Now, in apparent conformation with that promise, Alex held forth a bottle in a paper bag. "We brought this. Mom seems to think it's a big deal."
"It's a 1970 Latour, dear," Kate murmured didactically. She rolled her eyes. "Alex prefers beer."
"You must be adopted," Cookie grinned. Honestly, she didn't know the value of a 1970 Latour, either. She had every expectation, though, that Chess would.
Chess did. He took one look at the bottle when Cookie brought it into the kitchen, trailed by Kate and Alex. Then he gazed over her head at his mother. A surprised and careful smile came over his face. "You remembered."
Kate lifted a shoulder. "It was hard to forget that bottle you brought back from France with you."
Chess raised his eyebrows.
Cookie held her breath. Maybe he was finally getting it. His mother truly did care about him. Kate even remembered the bottle of wine he'd brought home from France eighteen years ago.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Alex rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you all to mess with the fancy grapes. You got a beer, Chess?"
Still holding the wine, Chess gestured with his head toward the refrigerator. "Sure, Alex. Help yourself."
At least the two half-brothers were being civil to each other. And Chess knew enough not to make a fuss about Alex sharing social drinks with the rest of the adults. Cookie felt a wave of gratified relief.
As it happened, the disaster that occurred during the meal was one Cookie had not anticipated. She was sitting around the corner of the table from Chess, passing a plate of yams, when the smell of food suddenly turned on her. From scrumptious aromas designed to stimulate the appetite, they became noxious fumes of terrible intent.
She set the plate of yams down rather hard. Then she concentrated on making the wave of nausea pass. It did, slowly. But as she picked up a plate of cut turkey, another one rose up to take its place. She willed that one down, too. But she knew she was fighting against the odds by that time.
"I—" She stood up from her seat, her brain working frantically. "I'm going to refill the water pitcher." Cookie quickly grabbed the thing. "Be back in a minute." As soon as the kitchen door closed behind her, she set down the water pitcher and raced through to the hall.
Fortunately, it didn't take her long in the downstairs bathroom. Her stomach was well primed and took care of its business without much fuss. Cookie was rinsing her face when she noticed Kate leaning in the doorway.
Without a word, Kate moved forward to hand her a towel. "How far along are you?"
Cookie accepted the towel and dried her face. "Almost ten weeks." Too late to deny it.
To Cookie's surprise, Kate smiled, not the least bit disapproving. "Don't worry. Neither of the boys noticed a thing. Feel better now?"
Cookie nodded. She did feel better, at least physically. But it was impossible to shake the weighty sense of guilt. This pregnancy was her fault. The first night they'd spent together, she hadn't used any birth control. He must have assumed she was taking care of it then and on every subsequent occasion when he hadn't used his own. Because that's what grown-up women did: took responsibility.
It had been her father's biggest issue with her, lack of responsibility.
And now she'd gone and done exactly what Luther had warned her not to do. Luther'd been right. It was diabolical. The number of ways she was abusing Chess here was astonishing. She was driving him into a permanent marriage without his input or consent. Cookie knew Chess would insist on a permanent marriage upon discovering a baby was involved. He'd told her that when they'd returned from their honeymoon. Also, she'd created a situation where he'd never have proof she might have wanted to stay with him on his own merits. And to top it all off, she was saddling him with fatherhood.
Whatever Chess's issues, this pregnancy was only going to tangle them further.
But to Kate, Cookie tried to act like everything was copasetic. "Wouldn't you know, my first bout with morning sickness would come in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner?"
Kate's smile broadened. "No one ever said babies were convenient. Does Chess know?"
Cookie drew in a deep breath. "Not yet."
Kate's hand came down gently on Cookie's shoulder. "He'll be thrilled."
"Oh, boy." No way could this be true. From the very beginning, he'd made it clear he had no interest in marriage. Ergo, no interest in starting a family.
Of course not. He didn't believe he was loved by the family he had now—including by Cookie.
"Oh, Cookie." Kate brushed the hair from her forehead, her eyes surprisingly tender. "Don't give up on him. Really. You've brought him so far."
Cookie managed a wan smile. If Kate only knew. Cookie had brought him nowhere.
"Come on." Kate was still smiling. "We'd better get back before it finally penetrates their thick male brains how long we've been gone."
When the two women returned through the kitchen door, Chess looked up. His gaze settled on Cookie with disturbing perspicacity. "I thought you went to get more water."
Cookie looked down at her empty hands in dismay.
Kate stepped into the awkward breach with a laugh. "We forgot the water, Cookie." She turned to Chess. "We got caught up in girl talk. Cookie, you sit. I'll get the pitcher."
Cookie sat, aware that Chess had yet to remove his scrutinizing gaze.
"Are you all right?" He frowned with concern and touched her forehead. "You look a little pale."
Cookie rustled up a smile. "I'm fine. I do suspect I snatched a few too many previews of the meal, though. I know you warned me—and now I'm not as hungry as I should be."
Chess smiled. "All the more leftovers I'll sentence you to finish tomorrow."
"You say that like it'll be a bad thing," Cookie joked.
Still feeling guilty, she glanced to the side. She caught Alex staring at Chess. Her half-brother's gaze was intense, as if searching for something in Chess's face. When he noticed Cookie watching him, he hastily lowered his eyes.
"You want to try some of the wine, Alex?" Chess asked.
With his eyes still lowered, Alex shook his head. "No, thanks. I'll stick with the Becks."
Carefully cutting herself a thin slice of turkey breast, Cookie puzzled over Alex's expression. His refusal of Chess's offer had not been made with the purpose of insulting his half-brother. Rather, it had a flavor of guilt. But what had Alex to feel guilty about?
Chess let his eyes rest on Alex a moment as though he, too, had heard the subtle undertone. "Well, there's plenty more beer in the refrigerator," he offered.
Alex nodded, not meeting his eyes.
Chess glanced at Cookie, who lifted a quizzical shoulder. Teenagers. At the same time, she was grateful Chess's attention had been distracted from her pallor or the way she'd forgotten to fill the water pitcher. But Cookie knew the reprieve was only temporary. She was going to have to break the news to him.
Tonight, she told herself. After Alex and Kate had gone home, and Chess was pleased and grateful with how smoothly the evening had gone. Tonight would be the perfect time.
With her decision made, Cookie smiled and tried to enjoy the rest of the evening. Everything was going far better than she'd dreamed. No cold insults were levelled between Chess and his mother. Alex, though subdued, showed no resentment of Chess. The conversation flowed easily, and the food disappeared with pleasure. It was the perfect family gathering. For once, everyone was on good terms. For once, everything was going well.
Cookie was painfully aware that her conversation with Chess later that night would ruin the whole thing.
Kate and Alex finally took their leave, after polishing off the meal, relaxing over coffee, and helping to clear the plates from the table. Once they were gone, Cookie washed the remaining dishes while Chess cleaned the dining room.
"That turned out all right," Chess announced, returning to the kitchen with the broom and dustpan. He sounded only mildly surprised as he put said items in the closet. Then he moved up behind Cookie's back where she stood at the sink. He wrapped his hands around her waist and nuzzled his nose against her neck. "You did a good job, sweetheart."
"Me? You're the one who made the meal."
"And you're the one who created the atmosphere. I don't know what you said to Alex, and I'm not going to ask."
"That's fortunate," Cookie mumbled. "Because I wouldn't tell you."
Chess laughed. His teeth lightly grazed her jaw. "Leave these. Come upstairs with me."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Yes." His voice went soft with promise. "So would you."
Wouldn't she, though? That's what she'd been doing for the past few weeks, going to bed with him instead of dealing with reality.
"Chess?" She could hear the strain in her voice. "Tonight I think we ought to talk."
The kisses he'd been raining down her neck abruptly stopped. "Talk?" Deep wariness was audible in his tone. "What about?"
Cookie pressed her lips together. If she weren't forced into a discussion, she would have postponed one. Chess was clearly not ready for any kind of baring of emotions, either mutual or even one-sided. He was not ready to believe Cookie might be genuinely happy that the relationship was now permanent.
Deciding to ease into the subject, Cookie stalled. "Alex, for starters. Did he seem anxious to you?"
Letting out a long breath, Chess rested his chin on top of her head "Something's eating at him. It's been that way ever since the attack."
Surprised, Cookie took her hands out of the suds and turned to look at him. "You sound like you've been watching pretty closely."
Chess stepped back with a closed expression. "I don't want whoever did that to him coming back for a second round."
Fear curled in her belly. "You think this was personal?"
He shrugged. "I think Alex is hiding something, something he knows about the attack—who did it, why it happened."
"No." But Chess could be right. She put a soapy hand to her mouth. "What do you think is going on? Have you asked him about it?"
"I did." Chess crossed his arms over his chest. "He told me to go to hell."
"You should have told me. Maybe I could have got him to say what it was."
Chess's expression closed even more. "I didn't want you involved."
"You didn't want me involved?" Cookie stared at him. "He's my brother. How much more involved do I have to be?"
Chess's eyes narrowed. "He's my brother, too. And I'm taking care of the matter. It's under control."
"It's under control!" Cookie shook the soapy water off her hands. "How?"
"I have someone...looking into it."
"What does that mean?"
"She's researching Alex's friends and associates."
Cookie was aghast. "You're paying someone to spy on Alex."
Chess lifted one eyebrow. "He won't talk to me."
Cookie opened her mouth but had no idea what to say. How did you explain to a man who'd obviously never considered the question that it was immoral to spy on his own brother?
"I'm not doing this out of petty curiosity," Chess went on. "This is Alex's safety we're talking about."
Cookie didn't want to concede he might actually have a point. "But it's so sneaky," she blurted.
At the pain that crossed his face, she was immediately sorry she'd made the remark.
"If a person isn't going to come out and be open with me," Chess stated stiffly, "I don't see what choice I have."
Cookie thought of her own lack of openness and felt a little sick. Besides, could she honestly blame Chess for trying to find out if Alex were involved in something dangerous? "All right. I'm willing to acknowledge you have good intentions even if I don't approve of your methods."
He turned his head, his arms still crossed over his chest.
Cookie could see she hadn't scored a lot of points with this half-hearted concession. "To be perfectly honest," she faltered on, "Alex wasn't my main concern tonight."
"Oh?" Frost dripped off his voice. "What else?"
This wasn't going to work. Cookie had to acknowledge that at least one more night was going to go by without telling Chess about the pregnancy. "Never mind," she sighed. "I think the moment has passed."
Tension palpably drained from Chess. Oh, he was most certainly not ready to discuss their true feelings for each other. That might mean admitting he cared, and nothing could horrify him more.
"Are you ready to go up to bed, then?" he asked.
She shook her head, thoroughly discouraged. "I think I'll finish the dishes. I'd rather not have them waiting for me in the morning."
He hesitated.
Had she sounded as if she were trying to avoid him?
"I'll be waiting for you upstairs," Chess finally said. He brushed a light kiss across her lips and pushed out the kitchen door.
I love you, Cookie added to herself.
But how could she ever get him to believe or accept such a sentiment now?