Nick had to laugh at himself. Making love to a woman with his jeans around his knees was, as Rafe would say, not smooth. Doing it in that woman’s living room where cleanup would be a challenge and an unexpected visitor could get a show was crazy. What had he been thinking?
Nothing, that’s what. When she’d dragged him in by his belt, any blood circulating in his brain had traveled south. No woman had ever pounced on him and Eva had done it twice.
Even more miraculous, he hadn’t been sweating much the second time, at least not until hot sex had opened his pores. Very hot sex. And he’d better get off that topic or he’d never make it through a cozy meal with her.
Drying his hands on a towel draped over the laundry tub, he fastened his jeans, tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt. Next time, he was gonna slow the process down, enjoy the journey. And before he launched into the finale, he’d be naked.
The spicy aroma of chili drifted from the kitchen as he walked down the hall. Now that he’d spent most of the day here, the house was familiar, cozy, even. As he walked into the living room, he glanced around for his hat. She’d hung it on the coat tree. Looked good hanging there, better than when all the hooks were empty.
He could access the kitchen from the doorway near the entry or the pocket door that opened onto the dining room. He’d never used that one and it was closer.
The stove was on the wall separating the kitchen and dining room and she stood in front of it stirring the chili. She glanced up in surprise when he walked in.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” But he sure did want to kiss her. “This door was a more direct route.”
“Definitely if you’re coming from the back of the house. I heard your footsteps in the hall but the living room rug muffles the sound and I lost track of where you were headed. I don’t know why I expected you to come through the other door.”
“Because that’s the one I’ve always used. Whoever designed this house was smart to put in two doors. You can carry groceries in the other one and bring cooked food out through this one.”
“Want to eat in there?”
“Sure, why not? Load me up and I’ll set the table.” If he had stuff in his arms, he couldn’t put them around Eva. If she caught fire, a distinct possibility, they wouldn’t eat the chili anytime soon.
“I’d appreciate that.”
He’d lost his place in the conversation. Whatever she’d appreciate, he’d do. His stomach rumbled when he smelled warm chili. His cock twitched when he caught a whiff of warm woman. He was ready for action on both fronts. He’d take his cue from her as to which road to take.
She stopped stirring the chili, crossed to a butcher-block counter and opened one of the drawers underneath. “We’ll only need spoons for chili and forks for salad.” She handed him ornate silver utensils that had the heft of the real thing.
Okay. He was setting the table. “These are nice.”
“Miss Barton’s.”
“Did we use this silver for breakfast?” He’d been so distracted he could have missed it.
“No. Eggs tarnish silver, so I used stainless.”
“Didn’t know that about silver.” He took the two cloth napkins she gave him and a couple of plates to put the chili bowls on. Carrying everything into the dining room, he paused. Pretty lace tablecloth. Long-ass table.
Just to make her laugh, he set up a place at each end. Henri had taught all her boys the basics of setting a table, but everything at the ranch was stainless. Maybe the egg and tarnish thing explained why. Henri wouldn’t want to mess with tarnish.
When he walked back into the kitchen, Eva was pulling salad fixings out of the fridge. Taking that job would give him something to do with his hands, something other than caressing Eva’s silky skin. “Want me to make that?”
She looked over at him. “Would you like to?”
“Absolutely. Thanks to CJ, I’m an excellent slicer and dicer.” Damn. He could have gone all evening without bringing up CJ.
“He’s good in the kitchen?”
“Just with cutting up veggies and stuff like that.”
She held his gaze. “Does it bother you that I had a crush on him?”
“No, I—”
“Because I think it does. Just now you winced after mentioning his name.”
“Didn’t mean to. He’s a brother and a good friend. If it came down to it, I’d give my life for CJ.”
“And I’m sure he’d do the same for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I don’t know if this will help, but CJ would have been all wrong for me. He’s clearly overjoyed to be marrying Isabel and settling into family life.”
“Yes, he is.” Far from helping, her comment brought up the problem he’d shoved out of sight. With time and luck, maybe it would gradually melt away.
“Besides, my crush on him was based on superficial things. He has blond hair and plays a guitar. I always went for the blond country stars as a teenager.”
“I thought you wanted to give me blond highlights so I’d look like CJ.”
“No, I just like the effect in general. But now that I know you better, I would never suggest you change the color of your hair.”
“Why?”
“It wouldn’t fit your personality. You’re authentic to the bone. Strong and true.”
He swallowed. “Thank you.” Those words sure helped.
“You don’t need highlights to make you look hot. You just are.”
He was flattered as hell. And ready to take this sweet-talking lady to bed. Clenching his hands at his sides, he took a shaky breath. “I told myself I wouldn’t touch you again until after we had a chance to eat. I’m struggling with that.”
“Me, too. But you said you were starving.”
“I was.”
“Not now?”
“No, ma’am.”
Breaking eye contact, she walked back to the stove and turned off the heat under the chili. Then she held out her hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”
He let her lead him up there, her grip firm. Anticipation played hell with his breathing as he mounted the steps. So many steps. Couldn’t possibly have been this many when he’d traipsed up and down them with boxes from the attic.
Eventually they reached the second floor. Her bedroom was only short distance from the landing and he followed her in, his heart a jackhammer in his chest. The first time he’d made love to her, he could only guess how it would be.
No guesswork now. Paradise waited. All he had to do was get out of his clothes and the magic would begin.
Her bedroom glowed in the golden light from the setting sun, brightening the colors of the patchwork quilt on the queen four-poster that took up most of the space. The oval mirror he’d set in the only available corner reflected sunset tinged clouds. A double-hung casement window was open, letting in a cooling breeze.
When she released his hand, he reached for the back of his shirt to pull it over his head.
“Please let me.” She grasped his forearms, halting his motion. “I want to undress you.”
“All right.” He lowered his arms to his sides, dragged in another breath and prayed he could hold it together while she did that. When she tugged the shirt from his waistband, her fingers brushed his sensitized skin and he shuddered.
“Cold?”
“No, ma’am. Excited.”
“So am I.” She pulled his shirt as high as she could reach. “Duck your head.”
He leaned over. She pulled off his shirt. And started folding the darn thing.
“Just drop it.”
“No.” She laid it on the top of an antique dresser. “I want it to stay right there until you leave. Might as well be folded.”
His breath caught. “Until I leave? But that might be—”
“Tomorrow morning? I hope so.”
“You want me shirtless the whole time? Even when we eat?”
“Yes, please.” She stroked his chest and gazed up at him. “Is that a problem?”
Nothing was a problem when she looked at him like that. “No, ma’am.”
“Good.” Standing back, she surveyed him. “Let’s get those boots off.”
“I can—”
“I know you can, but will you?” She grinned. “As I recall, last time you—”
“That’s never happening again.”
“Sit on the bed, please.”
He sat, a position that was not kind to his package in its current state. But he put up with the pain since she wanted to… oh, God, she was going to do it that way.
He clenched his jaw as she straddled his leg with her silk-clad tush facing in his direction. Grasping his boot, she worked it off his foot. Her bottom wiggled so invitingly he had to either grab her or look away. He looked away.
After she repeated the maneuver for the other boot and stripped off his socks, she stuffed his socks in the boots and set them next to the dresser. “I’d like those to stay there for the duration, too, please.”
“Eva, I’m not the type to parade around the place buck naked.”
“I know that.”
“How do you know that?”
“You’re modest. This afternoon when I came out to check on you, your grubby shirt was on the ground. You picked it up and put it on. Some men would have left it off, even driven home like that. Not you.”
“No, not me.” She’d been paying close attention. But she still didn’t understand a few key things about him. Or didn’t want to. That was okay. She liked him a whole lot. And time was on his side.