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“YOU’RE AWFULLY CHIPPER tonight,” Greg remarked as Katrina sneaked her way onto his lap during dinner.
“I just wanted to reach the butter.”
His fingers lingered on her neck and traveled down her back. “I could have passed it to you.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked as she squirmed off him and back into her own seat.
“Nothing. I just wanted the butter.” There was no use trying to hide her smile.
He looked so handsome. That dimple on the bottom of his chin, those broad shoulders. She’d known him for so long, and never did he look more irresistible than right now.
“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” he asked, even though the playful twinkle in his eyes told Katrina he knew exactly what she was doing, and he liked it.
“No particular reason,” she teased.
“You keep looking at me that way, you’re going to end up with more than just butter.”
She smiled coyly. “Maybe that’s what I’m hoping for.”
He reached across the table for her when his phone rang. Stupid cell. For a second, she was naïve enough to think he might let it go to voicemail.
“Hello, this is Pastor Greg.”
No such luck.
She sighed and sank back in her chair, gnawing on the three day-old bread roll that tasted remarkably bland considering how much attention she’d given to smothering it with butter.
“No,” Greg was saying, “you weren’t interrupting anything ... Yeah, we’re eating dinner, but we’re nearly finished up. The meal’s practically over. What did you need?”
He got up without even sparing Katrina a glance and retreated to his office, leaving her alone with a table full of cold food, dirty dishes, and a stale piece of bread.