Chapter Fourteen

Colin wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between him and Peaches, but he was willing to let things go wherever they went. Sitting with her in the darkened kitchen—staring at the warm gold of her hair, the rose of her cheeks, the delectable curves of her body—had shown him his own body was a lot closer to full recovery than he’d realized. Touching her, even accidentally, had sent something like an electric current flowing through him.

Now his brain was supplying a series of erotic images—all golden and rosy with a curving body like something out of Botticelli.

She’s your guardian angel. She saved you from that damned shed where you might have died. She hasn’t asked you for anything. And you’re going to pay her back by having sex with her?

The voice of his conscience helped dampen his desire a little, but he still felt the slow throb of his body, reminding him he hadn’t been with a woman for a very long time. His conscience was kicking him hard, but his body got a vote, too.

Is that all she is? A target of opportunity? A chance to get your rocks off?

He didn’t think so, but the possibility did make him uneasy. He liked Peaches above and beyond being attracted to her. He didn’t want to do anything that would make it tough for them to be friends.

Of course, walking out on her now could be the wrong thing to do, too, and could also blow their friendship sky high. Particularly if she thought he was pulling back because he wasn’t interested in her. His body gave another throb. If she took a good look at him, she’d know he was interested in her. Very interested.

He dropped onto the couch, placing the wine bottle and glasses on the low table in front of him. Maybe it was time to calm the hell down. They were just having a glass of wine, after all. That didn’t necessarily mean they were headed to the bedroom.

But he wouldn’t exactly mind if they did.

Peaches walked into the room, drying her hands on a towel. “Thanks again for dinner. It was nice to come home to food I didn’t fix myself.”

“I was glad to do it. Maybe I can get you some of our beer. Probably more of a treat than my cooking.”

She sat beside him on the couch, carefully leaving a few inches of space between them. “What are you working on now?”

“Different things. An IPA. Some honey wheat beer I’ll start when I get back to brewing again.” That may be my salvation.

“I’ve never heard of honey beer. It sounds interesting.”

“I think it will be. I need to ask you about sources for honey, though. I mean, I’m guessing you use honey in baking.”

She nodded slowly. “I do. Sometimes. Honey has a really strong flavor—it can sort of take over anything you bake. But some things, like honey cakes and bars, are great. And, of course, there’s baklava and Greek pastries. Those are really delicious.”

He forced himself not to think about delicious in connection with Peaches. “I’ve done some reading about honey. I think I need to use the raw stuff. It’s supposed to have a more unique flavor.”

“It does. Which has its pros and cons—you can’t really depend on something like wildflower honey to taste exactly the same from one batch to the next.” Peaches grinned. “This is sounding more and more interesting as we talk.”

Her smile did wild things to his gut. Settle down. You’re talking about honey, remember?

“So who’s a good supplier for raw honey around here?” he asked.

“Angel Parsons,” Peaches said promptly. “She’s got her own bakery—bread rather than pastries. But she’s also got an apiary. I buy all my honey from her. It’s first rate.”

“Angel?” Colin’s heart dropped. Steady on. It may not be the same person. “I used to know a baker here named Angel Lomax. She supplied us with some yeast back in the day.”

“Same person. She married Abe Parsons a year or so back.” Peaches gave him a curious look. “Were you friends?”

He hesitated. “Not exactly. She was really good friends with Bec.” Which means she’s probably not interested in selling me honey.

“I like Angel a lot,” Peaches said slowly. “She’s a nice woman. And she’s been very interested in the brewery. I think she’s still one of their yeast suppliers. You should be okay with her.”

Colin gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. Was he that transparent? Yeah, apparently he was. “Thanks.”

“People get over things,” she said softly. “You think they’ll hold grudges, but they don’t necessarily.”

Yes, they do. But Bec had good cause to be pissed with him. All the more reason to tread carefully with Peaches. He didn’t want two strong, gutsy women hating him. “I’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“You probably feel like you do, but I’m not sure everybody else does.” Peaches leaned forward to pick up her wine then gave him a faint smile. “You’re here. You’re working. You haven’t made trouble for anybody. Most people take your background in stride.”

Of course, he’d created a certain amount of trouble for Liam and Bec, but according to Liam, he’d also earned his keep with the beer he’d made for them. And he’d go on earning it, with any luck. “I’ll look Angel up next week. After I’m back working again.”

Peaches’s forehead furrowed. “I’m still not sure about your going back to work so soon. I mean, are you certain you’re up to it?”

A series of really inappropriate answers flashed through his brain. Want to see how much I can do? My body’s working fine, let me demonstrate. Oh, lady, you have no idea how much I’m up to. His face heated, and he only hoped he wasn’t too obvious about the whole arousal part of things. “I’m doing okay. I’ve had several days of rest now. If I start feeling bad again, I’ll ease up.”

“Right, well, as long as you’re feeling okay…”

She took a quick sip of her wine, her cheeks a little rosier than before, and he realized she was nervous, too. It was maybe the first time he’d ever seen her in anything less than complete control.

He sort of liked it. “You could check my temperature.”

Peaches blinked, her blue eyes rounding. “Why? Do you feel warm?”

“Not especially. But I’d be glad to reassure you.” He gave her a calibrated smile—friendly, but not over the top. At least he didn’t think it was.

Peaches bit her full, pink lower lip, which managed to send another charge of arousal crashing through him. Then she reached out and brushed cool fingers across his forehead.

“You feel good to me,” she said slowly. “I mean, I don’t think you have any fever.”

“Glad to hear it. No sore throat. No headache. I think I’m past it now.”

“Don’t rush things, though. You don’t want to tempt fate.”

Fate was the last thing he wanted to tempt. Tempting her, however, had suddenly become a priority. He took her hand in his, placing her wineglass back on the table, almost without thinking about what he was doing. “Your fingers are cold.” He rubbed her hand lightly.

She shook her head, her eyes suddenly luminous in the soft light. “It’s not… I’m not cold. Not really.”

He held her hand between both of his. “Whatever I can do to help.”

“Whatever…”

She bit her lip again, and it was more than he could take. He cupped her face in his hands. “May I kiss you, Peaches? I’m pretty sure I’m not contagious anymore. I looked online.”

She stared up at him, blue eyes wide. And then she nodded.

Honey. Cloves. She smelled like all the sweet things in her kitchen, sugar and spice and everything nice. Very, very nice. She tasted sweet, too. His head swam as he moved his hands to her shoulders. He really hoped he was back to his usual strength, because he had a feeling making love to Peaches would take some stamina.

He ran the tip of his tongue gently along her lips, and her mouth opened beneath his. More sweetness, a honeycomb, fragrant and delectable.

His hands slid from her shoulders down to her full breasts. She gasped against his ear as he rubbed his thumbs against her nipples.

Maybe it was time to slow down a little. He leaned back to look at her. “Is this okay?”

She nodded, biting that lip again. “I’ll tell you if it isn’t.”

Clearly, she had no idea just how crazy she made him. He gathered her into his arms, pulling her across his lap.

“You taste like cinnamon,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the smooth skin behind her ear. “You’re delicious.”

She gave a breathy chuckle, her hands tightening on his upper arms as she moved her head. “It’s the cookies. They sort of linger after you put them in the oven.”

“Best kind of lingering.” He had a feeling he’d still be tasting her long after the evening was over. He ran his tongue along the line of her throat, nipping lightly at the edge of her shoulder. And the evening was just getting started—

Or not.

Peaches pulled back slightly, resting her palm on his chest. “Wait. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“It isn’t?” He wouldn’t pressure her. This would have to be her choice, even if her choice killed him. He took a deep breath, pulling himself back to rational thought. “There’s always been something between us, from the first time we talked to each other. It’s no secret I want you. But I’ll back off if you say no.”

He paused to give her a moment to answer, saying a silent prayer she wouldn’t say no.

“I do want you,” she said slowly. “And yeah, I know you want me. But the thing is, we’re going to be working together. And I don’t want things to get weird.”

He wished he could say he didn’t know what she was talking about, but he did. “I don’t think that’ll happen, but no guarantees. On the other hand, this could be the start of something, Peaches. If it’s something you want.”

She closed her eyes, resting her hand on his chest, as if she was taking a moment to think about what she really did want from him. “I know what I want. I’m just not sure it’s what I should have.”

He managed not to groan, although it took a major effort. He wasn’t sure he was up to philosophical discussions right then. “You should have whatever makes you happy. Whatever I can do to make that happen, I’ll do.” He leaned forward again to rest his forehead against hers, tightening his arms around her waist.

She was the most luscious thing he’d held in his arms for months, and giving her up would probably mean a night of agony. But he’d do it. For Peaches, he’d do it if he had to. He leaned forward, touching his lips to hers again, drowning again in her sweetness.

Someone whimpered. Someone other than Peaches. He was pretty sure it wasn’t him, although he wasn’t 100 percent certain.

Peaches groaned. “Well, damn.”

He pulled back to look at her. “What?”

“Wiseass.”

It took a moment for his brain to register what she was saying. Then he turned to see a pair of large brown eyes staring up at him. Wiseass whimpered again.

“Shit,” he said.

“She sleeps in her crate in the kitchen, but sometimes she likes to be in the bedroom with me.” Peaches pulled back again, brushing the curls away from her forehead.

I’d like to be in the bedroom with you, too. But he was beginning to think it wouldn’t happen. At least not tonight. “Sort of a mood killer.”

She nodded, smiling ruefully. “Maybe for the best. We both need to get some sleep.”

He’d really prefer to get that sleep next to her. But he’d said it was her choice, and he meant it. He brought his hand to her cheek again, running his thumb across her soft skin. “I’ll say good night, then.”

She nodded. “I’ll lock up. Good night, Colin.”

He started to take his hand away, but then he leaned forward again, brushing his lips across hers. “Peaches, you are lovely.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Now go to bed.”

And he went.

…

Peaches took Wiseass back to the kitchen where she belonged. “Thanks, pup,” she murmured. “Things were moving a little fast there.” At the same time, a part of her wished Wiseass had stayed in the kitchen.

There’s always been something between us. From the first time we talked to each other. That was true enough, but she’d also spent a lot of time trying to push him away, to keep him from getting too close.

He’s not Jerry.

No, he wasn’t. In a lot of ways, he was worse. Jerry had disappointed her and infuriated her and made her cry, but he hadn’t broken her heart. Her heart hadn’t been involved. With Colin, her heart was definitely in play. If she let him get close, she took a real risk. Which was probably why she’d been trying to keep him at arm’s length.

Right. How’s that been working out?

It hadn’t, of course. Being near him started an ache around her heart. And lower.

I’m pretty sure I’m not contagious anymore. I looked online. If he’d looked online, that meant he’d already been thinking about kissing her. Well, so what? She’d been thinking about the same thing.

There was definitely something happening between them, and she needed to either do something about it or end it. Staying on the fence wasn’t working.

Fish or cut bait, Peaches? Stay or play?

On the whole, she was leaning toward play.