“Still no movie theater in Rust Creek Falls?” he guessed.
“Just the high school gym on Friday and Saturday nights—and only so long as none of the varsity teams is playing.”
“Go Wildcats,” he said, and made her laugh again.
“So what do your parents think about you having a man in the house while they’re away?” he teased.
She carried the platter of meat to the table. “I didn’t tell them I was having company for dinner,” she admitted.
“Why not?” he asked, following with the bowls of mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables.
“Because my parents tend to be a little...overprotective,” she said as she poured gravy into a ceramic pitcher.
He lifted the bottle of merlot—a silent question. She nodded, and he poured the wine into their glasses.
“Probably because you don’t have any older brothers to look out for you.”
“Did you look out for your younger sisters?”
It was an innocent question—and one that flowed naturally from their topic of conversation—but it brought the harsh realities rushing back to him. “Not as much as I should have in the early years,” he acknowledged. “And then I lost the chance to do so.”
She touched a hand to his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up unhappy memories.”
He pulled away from her touch, not wanting or deserving her comfort, and picked up his fork, slicing easily through the beef on his plate. “Wow. This is so tender I barely need the knife.” He took a taste and savored the bite. “Mmm. And juicy.”
She acknowledged his compliment—and the change of topic—with a slight nod. “I hope Bella doesn’t mind that you’re not there for dinner tonight.”
“Are you kidding? She decided it was a good excuse not to cook so Hudson was taking her out to eat.”
“Maverick Manor?” she guessed.
“I didn’t ask,” he admitted, then frowned. “Is that the fancy new hotel on the highway headed toward Kalispell?”
She nodded.
“Good food there?”
“That’s the rumor,” she told him. “Although I couldn’t say for sure, because I’ve never been.”
“Why not?” Noting that her glass was almost empty, he lifted the bottle to top up her drink but didn’t add to his own because he had a hard and fast rule about never consuming more than a single alcoholic beverage when he was driving.
“It’s not exactly the type of place where a woman would go on her own—even if she could afford it,” Eva said in response to his question.
He shook his head as he swallowed the last bite of his meal. “What’s wrong with the guys in this town that none of them has offered to take you?”
“That’s a question you’d have to ask them,” she said.
Though the smile remained on her face, her tone was a little stiff, and Luke mentally cursed himself for his insensitivity. She was a gorgeous woman who worked magic in the kitchen, so he’d naturally assumed her unmarried status was a matter of choice. Apparently, he was wrong.
“Did you leave room for dessert?” Eva pushed away from the table and carried their plates to the counter. “I made gingerbread and white chocolate mousse trifle.”
“I would have said I couldn’t eat another bite, but that sounds too delicious to resist,” he told her.
“Do you want coffee with dessert?”
“I always want coffee—if it’s not too much trouble,” he said.
“No trouble at all,” she assured him, reaching for the carafe. Then as he opened the dishwasher, she asked, “What are you doing?”
He started to load the dishes she had cleared from the table. “Helping with the cleanup,” he said, in case it wasn’t obvious.
“You’re not supposed to do that,” she protested.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a guest.”
“You were a guest at Jamie and Fallon’s, but you insisted on helping.”
“I was an uninvited guest,” she pointed out. “And Jamie and Fallon had their hands full with the kids.”
“My mom always said that a man could best show his appreciation for a meal by helping with the cleanup afterward.”
“In that case, I will stop protesting and say thank you.”
“Thank you,” Luke said. “That was truly the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Of course, if you tell my sister or sister-in-law I said that, I’ll deny it till the cows come home.”
“I would never,” she promised.
He closed the dishwasher. “Trifle?”
“Coming right up.”
* * *
As much as Eva enjoyed being in the kitchen, she got even more pleasure watching others enjoy her creations, so she was thrilled when Luke finished off two servings of trifle. Except that when he set his spoon inside the empty bowl, it was a definite signal that dinner was over.
“More coffee?” she offered.
He shook his head as he glanced at the clock over the sink. “No, thanks. I should probably be heading back.”
He pushed away from the table, gathered her bowl along with his own and carried them to the dishwasher. Eva followed with their empty coffee mugs.
Luke turned as she approached the dishwasher, so she stepped to the side—and he did the same. She moved to the other side—and he did the same again.
“Dinner and dancing,” he noted.
She smiled as she shifted again.
This time he tried to get out of her way by moving forward and she bumped into him. Or rather the mugs she carried bumped into his chest. His broad, solid, warm chest.
“You really need to stop trying to lead,” he teased.
“It’s the music,” she bantered back.
He took the mugs from her hands and turned to set them in the top rack of the machine, then closed the door.
Eva didn’t move. She was too preoccupied with the alluring view of well-worn denim stretching across his nicely curved backside.
Then he turned again and straightened, so that her gaze was now fixed on that strong chest. She lifted her eyes to his broad shoulders, the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the sensual curve of his lips.
Those lips were moving now, so she made an effort to focus on his words rather than speculate about how his mouth would feel against hers.
“It was kind of you to invite me for dinner tonight. Thank you,” he said.
“You’re very welcome.”
Neither of them moved.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, for just a second, then jerked away. Almost as if he’d been thinking about kissing her before he remembered that he didn’t want to get involved. But there had been so much intensity in that brief moment, Eva’s breath backed up in her lungs and her knees actually quivered.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Luke.”
She didn’t say anything other than his name, but she suspected that single syllable told him everything she was thinking and feeling. His response confirmed it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re wishing I would kiss you.”
Was it the wine that made her brave? Or was it not knowing how long he was going to be in town that made her reluctant to waste any time playing games?
“Maybe I am wishing you would kiss me,” she told him.
He shook his head, sincerely regretful. “It’s not going to happen, Eva.”
Her hopes fizzled like a balloon leaking air. “You don’t want to kiss me?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s smart,” he said.
“And kissing me wouldn’t be smart?” she guessed.
“I have
no business getting involved with you—with anyone—when I’m only going to be in Rust Creek Falls for a few weeks.”
“So you’ve said,” she noted.
“I just want to be clear. I came back because Bella was looking for me, but I’m not planning to stay.”
“I don’t think that’s the only reason you came back,” she said. “I think you wanted to see your siblings as much as they wanted to see you.”
“Maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “That doesn’t change the fact that my life is in Wyoming now.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably.
Then she took another half step forward so that she was standing even closer to him now, and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.
“What are you doing?” he asked a little warily.
“Since you’ve made it clear that you have no intention of kissing me, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”
Then she lifted those hands to his shoulders, rose up onto her toes and touched her mouth to his.
Chapter Seven
It was a casual kiss. Barely a brush of her lips against his, but the effect was like touching a lit match to dry tinder, and desire flamed hot and bright inside her. Maybe inside him, too. Because before she could draw away, his arm was at her back, hauling her against him.
And then he was kissing her.
She might have initiated the contact, but Luke quickly took over. Eva was happy to relinquish control because, wow, did he know how to kiss.
His lips were warm and firm and moved over hers with just the right amount of pressure. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she parted willingly to let him inside.
For a man who claimed that he had no business getting involved, he was definitely involved in the kiss. And when his hands slid up her back, urging her even closer, she linked her hands behind his neck and held on while the world shifted beneath her feet.
She didn’t know how long the kiss went on, except that it was long enough to melt all the bones in her body and completely blank her mind. She could think of nothing but Luke, want nothing but Luke. And even when her brain registered a quiet chime somewhere in the distance, it was several seconds later before she recognized the sound.
Luke eased his lips from hers and exhaled slowly. “That must be yours.”
“My what?”
“Phone,” he said.
“Oh. Right.”
Eva drew an unsteady breath and tried to remember where she’d left her phone. She found it in the pocket of her coat.
“My parents,” she explained, after she’d unlocked the screen and read the message. “They always send a quick text to let me know when they’re on their way home.”
“I guess that’s my cue to be heading out.”
“There’s no need to rush off,” she protested.
He moved toward the door and sat on the bench to stuff his feet into his boots again.
“Thanks. I really enjoyed dinner.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and his own lips curved. “And dessert.”
* * *
Eva’s cheeks turned pink but she seemed to accept his words at face value. “I’ll get the rest of the trifle for you to take with you.”
“I should tell you not to bother, but it was really good.”
She laughed softly as she went to retrieve the leftover dessert from the refrigerator.
And yeah, he watched her cross the kitchen floor, admiring the nicely rounded curve of her butt as she moved.
There was no point in denying that he was attracted to her. And why wouldn’t he be? She was pretty and spunky, and the sweet, seductive flavor of her lips made him want a lot more.
It had been a while since he’d enjoyed intimate female companionship. He couldn’t remember how long exactly—three months? Four? Longer?
There was a woman who worked as a bartender at his favorite watering hole in Cheyenne. A curvy brunette who was amenable to hooking up when they were both in the mood. He hadn’t been in the mood in a while. Truthfully, he hadn’t even thought about her in months. And he suspected that, if asked, she would say the same about him.
Which was probably why he was so strongly attracted to Eva. She was a beautiful woman and he was a red-blooded man who had been sleeping alone for a long time. If the pretty baker was willing to help him end that period of self-imposed celibacy, he would be crazy to turn her down. Especially when he wanted nothing more than to peel away her clothes as if they were one of those paper cupcake liners, then lick her all over as if her body was covered in buttercream icing.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Eva said as she walked back to him.
It took his brain a minute to shake off the fantasy and recall the topic of their conversation. “I did,” he said, accepting the bowl she offered.
Then, almost of its own volition, his free hand lifted to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over the curve of her bottom lip.
“You’re a tempting woman, Eva Armstrong.” And though he couldn’t deny that he wanted her, he forced his hand to drop away. “But I can’t afford to give in to temptation.”
Once again, she surprised him. Instead of accepting the boundary he was attempting to establish, she asked, “Why?” as if she sincerely couldn’t understand the reason he was determined to ignore the chemistry between them.
He wasn’t sure that he understood it, either, but he knew that it was necessary. “Because I don’t even know how long I’m going to be in Rust Creek Falls, but I know it’s not going to be forever,” he reminded her.
“I’m not looking for a ring on my finger,” she told him.
He lifted his brows, silently challenging the veracity of her claim, and her cheeks flushed again.
“Sure, I want to get married someday,” she acknowledged, perhaps a little defensively. “But I didn’t kiss you because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Why did you kiss me?” he asked, though he suspected the answer could lead down a path he didn’t want to follow.
She shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. But you don’t have to worry,” she hastened to assure him. “I’m not in the habit of throwing myself at men who don’t want me.”
It would be easy to let her believe that was true. That they’d shared a kiss, and the kiss hadn’t done anything for him. But after the passionate embrace they’d shared, how could she possibly think he didn’t want her?
He’d practically pounced on her like a starving man at a buffet, and that first taste had failed to sate him. Even now, a primitive hunger continued to gnaw at his belly. Of course, admitting that truth might be more dangerous than allowing her to believe a lie. But he knew it hurt to be rejected, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her—which was why he needed to keep a safe and careful distance from the appealingly sweet Eva Armstrong.
“If you believe I don’t want you, then you haven’t been paying attention,” he chided gently.
A spark of something flared in those beautiful blue eyes and the corners of her mouth tipped up, just a little. “You do want me?”
Only more than he wanted to draw his next breath, but there was no way in hell he would admit it—especially when he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I know you’re planning to go back to Wyoming in a few weeks,” she assured him. “I just don’t understand why, if we enjoy spending time together, we can’t occasionally hang out while you’re here.”
Though he was still wary, it seemed like a reasonable compromise. “I guess there’s no harm in that,” he said cautiously. “So long as you understand that there won’t be any more kissing.”
“Growing up with three sisters should have taught you that telling a woman she can’t do something is a surefire way to make her try,” she warned.
“It wasn’t a challenge, Eva,” he assured her.
“Okay,” she said agreeably.
But there was a twinkle in her eye that warned Luke she had taken it as such. And he suspected that keeping his hands off the pretty baker was going to be more of a challenge than he could handle. More than he wanted to handle.
Because despite his assertion that it shouldn’t happen again, now that he’d kissed her once, he wanted to do it over and over. He wanted to savor her intoxicating flavor; he wanted to feel the yield of those sweet lips; he wanted to revel in the press of her soft, feminine curves against his hard, aching body.
Yeah, he wanted all kinds of things he had no business wanting. “Good night, Eva.”
“Good night, Luke.”
* * *
Bella and Hudson were still out when Luke got back to their place, so he put the bowl of trifle in the refrigerator and settled himself on the sofa in front of the television. Scrolling through the channels, he found highlights of recent football games, but the replays on the screen failed to hold his attention. Instead, he was thinking about a certain sexy baker and the kiss that never should have happened.
Luke was generally pretty good at reading people, and it wasn’t often someone said or did anything that surprised him. But when Eva moved in and kissed him, the bold action had caught him off guard.
It shouldn’t have, because she’d given him fair warning. She’d outright told him that she was going to kiss him, so it wasn’t really the move that surprised him so much as his own response to the overture.
He’d kissed her back, because while he still believed that getting romantically involved with anyone in Rust Creek Falls was a bad idea, he wasn’t going to refuse the sweet offering. And because he couldn’t help himself.
Because that first taste of her lips had made him want more.
A lot more.
“I didn’t expect that you’d be home already.”
The sound of his sister’s voice jerked him back to the present.
“What?” He pressed the mute button on the remote so that he could focus on what she was saying. Not that he’d actually been watching the sports update, but he’d wanted to at least preserve the illusion that he was doing something other than thinking about Eva Rose Armstrong and the delicious flavor of her kiss.
The Maverick's Midnight Proposal Page 8