“Not really. I have four-wheel-drive. Besides, I’m not about to miss out on that spaghetti.”
“I’ll have it ready in a sec.” By the time he came back, she’d dished the spaghetti and ladled on the sauce. “Where’s Delilah?”
“Curled up in a corner looking happy to be here. She thought I was taking her home.”
“But wouldn’t that be a good thing? She loves her home.”
“She does, but she’s also fond of you.”
The way he said it gave her shivers of pleasure. “I’m glad. The feeling’s mutual.” She held up her cheese grinder. “Parmesan?”
“You bet. Classy restaurant you have here.”
She covered the pasta with a light layer of cheese. “Thanks. I don’t fix dinner often.”
“Too busy baking?”
“You’ve got that right. It’s miraculous I had something to give your dog and you.”
“Our good luck.”
“I was planning to offer you wine.” She set down the grinder and grabbed an oven mitt so she could take a cookie sheet of toasted garlic bread out of the oven. “But not if you’ll end up driving home in the snow.”
“Water’s fine for me. And the bread looks awesome.”
“We’re ready.” She spread a cloth napkin in a basket and arranged the bread in it. “If you want to take in the pasta, I’ll bring the bread and silverware.”
“Before I do that, where did you put those candlesticks that were on the dining table?”
“I tucked them in my pantry. A candlelight dinner is a nice thought, but now that we’re tackling that box, I don’t want to chance catching it on fire.”
“No worries. I moved it off the table.”
“Oh?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t add a single thing to the ambiance.”
“You’re a very perceptive guy.” She met his gaze and smiled. “You moved that box for my sake, didn’t you?”
“Whenever you look at it your jaw clenches.”
He was right, but she was touched that he’d noticed. “I appreciate the effort. I promise to get better at this reconciling stuff.”
“You’re doing fine.” His expression was kind. “It’ll get easier.”
“You know what? I believe you. I’ll get the candlesticks and candles. And placemats. Might as well do this right.”
What a difference those added touches made. Removing the box would have been enough to change the dynamic, but candlelight, colorful placemats and cloth napkins turned the impromptu meal into an occasion.
He held her chair before taking his seat across from her. “I have another suggestion.”
“Keep ‘em coming. They’ve worked great for me so far.”
“Let’s talk about something besides business.”
“I’m all for that.” She spread her napkin in her lap and picked up her fork. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something for weeks.”
“Fire away.” He expertly twirled the pasta around his fork and popped it in his mouth. “Mm.”
“My mom’s recipe.”
He chewed and swallowed. “It’s really good.” He gathered another forkful. “So what’s your big question?”
“That conversation we had the night you rescued Delilah. You seemed worried about whether your mom had mentioned that you were single. What was that all about?”
He took a slice of garlic bread. “First let me say that I love my mom. She’s amazing and she and my dad are awesome parents.”
“Disclaimer duly noted.”
He looked amused. “Much as I love my mother, I was afraid she’d been up to her old tricks.”
“Like what?” She tucked into her spaghetti. It always tasted good, but sharing it with Luke made it even more delicious.
“Matchmaking, specifically for her kids.”
“It’s a time-honored tradition, Luke. Moms were probably lining up suitable mates for their children in the Stone Age.”
“That may be, but my mother has taken it to a new level. Hayley got the worst of it. She was so frustrated by Mom’s constant parade of bachelors every Christmas holiday that she introduced Badger as her pretend fiancé.”
“So that’s what was going on. I picked up on some rumors but I never got the whole story.”
“It turned into a Bennett family drama. Mom was devastated to discover that she was the cause of the fake fiancé caper and she promised to quit trying to marry us off.”
“But Badger and Hayley are a couple, right?”
“A couple, yes. While pretending to be in love, they fell in love for real. But they’re not engaged. Hayley wants to make sure they know each other really well first.”
“That’s smart.”
“I think so, too. As to the night you and I met at the GG, you said Mom had been talking about me and alarm bells went off.”
“I can see how they would.”
“I’m sure she’s trying to keep hands off, but it’s tough for her. She’s happily married and thinks her kids should be, too.” He reached for another piece of bread. “I was hoping to keep our relationship on the down-low, but I blew that program on Thursday.”
“Because your mom noticed the lipstick?”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, Luke.” She couldn’t help laughing. “I tried to say something, but you—”
“Ran out like my hair was on fire. I’m aware of that. Totally did it to myself.” His gaze warmed. “Worth it, though.”
Her heart rate kicked up several notches. “She would have found out, eventually. We went to the GG together. It’s a small town. People notice things.”
“True. I’m still getting used to that.”
“I’m surprised none of my customers have mentioned seeing me having dinner with you.”
“Would they?”
“If they were there and noticed, definitely. I’m sure it’s common knowledge that I haven’t dated anyone since I moved here.”
“Seriously?” He put down his fork and glanced at her. “Nobody?”
“I’ve been asked a few times, but it just seemed too complicated. I go to bed at eight and get up at three. On Sundays, I sleep an extra couple of hours, but I still can’t stay up late or I’ll be zonked on Monday. That schedule doesn’t mesh with the usual dating routine.”
“But you went out with me.”
“Yes, well…” Her cheeks warmed.
“Which is pretty amazing considering how I bobbled the invitation. I guess you must like me a little.”
She smiled. “Just a little bit.”
“But I’m still surprised you haven’t gone out with anyone. If a guy used his imagination, a lot could happen between four and eight.”
Oh, my. Adrenaline pumped through her system, making her giddy. “That’s what Ingrid says.”
“Good for Ingrid. I knew I liked her.”
“She’s something else. She got Roxanne and me Christmas condoms…” She clapped her hand over her mouth as heat rushed to her face.
He cracked up. “Christmas condoms?”
“I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“Okay, now I have to know. Are they red and green? Red and white striped like a candy cane? Decorated with pictures of snowmen?” He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.
“No, no! They’re just regular ones.” His laughter was infectious.
“So she just called them Christmas condoms when she gave them to you.”
“Oh, she did more than that. She wrapped them individually in holiday paper and added little tags that said stuff.”
His eyes gleamed. “Like what?”
“Let me think.” She pushed aside her empty pasta bowl. “Things like, Ring in the New Year, Spread Good Cheer, Be Joyful and Triumphant. Like that.”
“That’s hilarious. I’ll have a tough time keeping a straight face next time I see her.”
“Do your best, please. I can’t imagine what made me tell you.”
The la
ughter faded from his expression to be replaced by something much hotter. “I can. I’ll bet you can, too, if you think about it.”
“Oh, no. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to start something. I’m really not.” Her heartbeat was out of control. “It’s snowing. You need to get home before the roads get bad.”
“If I’d been worried about the roads, I wouldn’t have stayed for dinner.”
That rang true. He’d dismissed the problem in favor of spending time with her. She’d found that dashing. “But you said you’d leave right after.”
“I know. At the time, I meant it.” He pushed back his chair.
She could barely breathe. “I don’t…I don’t want you to do anything foolish.”
“I won’t.” He rounded the table and drew her from her chair. “I was raised in snow country. I can deal with it.”
Her resistance melted in the heat of his gaze. “I’m sure you can. But the last thing I want is to make life more difficult for you.”
“I’ll tell you what would be difficult.” He pulled her close. “Driving home in a snowstorm and knowing I’d given up a chance to be with you.” He held her gaze. “I want to stay, but I haven’t asked what you want.”
She took a shaky breath. “You. I want you.”
Chapter Eighteen
What a rush. Luke’s heart raced. I want you. Abigail’s murmured words, the snowflakes drifting past her window, the promise of what she was willing to share with him—dreams were like this. The good ones, anyway. Any minute he expected to wake up in his own bed, the scent of sawdust in the air from the latest sanding project.
Her hand was soft and warm as she threaded her fingers through his. “Come with me.” She led him down a short hall and into a room filled with the glow from a lamp shaped like a cupcake.
Yeah, he was dreaming. That crazy lamp cinched it.
Giving his hand a squeeze, she released it and closed the bedroom door. Then she walked over to the bed. Maybe now she’d vanish into thin air. Instead she threw back the covers and turned, unbuttoning her blouse as she walked back to him.
“Let me.” He caught her hands and drew them away from the buttons. He still might wake up. In the meantime, he’d enjoy the heck out of this dream.
She gazed at him, her eyes luminous. “Kiss me, Luke.”
“Great idea.” Burying his fingers in her mop of silken curls, he tilted her head back. Her lips parted and her eyelashes fluttered down to rest on her smooth cheeks. With a groan, he settled his mouth over hers.
The moment he touched down, the floodgates opened. He poured every bit of his hunger into that kiss, feasting on her lips and using his tongue to gather the sweet nectar of her mouth. He couldn’t get enough of this. He might never get enough.
The longer he kissed her, the less he wanted to stop. She seemed in no mood to end it, either. Clutching the back of his head, she opened to him in an invitation that heated his blood and sent it racing south.
He kissed her until his lungs ached and his jeans tightened to the point of pain. Breathing hard, he lifted his head and gulped for air. “I love…kissing you.”
Her lashes flicked upward, revealing passion-dark eyes. “Not half as much as I love kissing you.”
“It would almost be enough.”
“Almost.” She leaned into him. “But not quite.”
His breath hissed out as she put pressure on his fly. “Easy, Abby.”
Her startled gaze met his. “Abby?”
“It seemed right.” He searched her expression. “You don’t like it?”
Her smile blossomed. “I do when you say it.”
“Nobody’s ever called you that?”
“I wouldn’t let them.”
“But you’ll let me?” That pleased him.
She nodded and snuggled closer. “In fact, I’ll let you do anything you want.”
“I hope you mean that.” He slipped his hands inside the open collar of her blouse and massaged her shoulders. “Because I have a long list. Might take a while to get through everything.”
She took a ragged breath. “Go for it.”
“Think I’ll start with this.” He undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse, tugged it from the waistband of her jeans and took it off.
He couldn’t say what happened to her blouse after that. He lost track of it. All his attention was focused on a red lace bra that cupped two helpings of heaven. His cock twitched, suggesting he might want to get on with it, but…so pretty, rising and falling with each breath.
Arching her back, she reached for the hooks, unfastened them and pulled off the lacy garment to unveil the treasures underneath. The view got better and better.
Her nipples responded to his hot gaze by tightening into burgundy peaks. Sliding an arm around her waist, he drew her closer and cradled one of those satin breasts. He was torn between the erotic view of his thumb brushing lazily over that rigid tip and the gleam of sensuality in her eyes as he caressed her.
Drawing her toward the bed, he sat on the edge of the mattress and guided her down so she could straddle his knees. The urge to taste her was so strong his throat hurt. Leaning down, he swiped his tongue over her nipple.
She whimpered. “More.”
“Count on it,” he murmured against her skin right before he drew that tempting bud into his mouth. The blood roared in his ears as he began to nibble and suck. So good.
She scooted forward until she was tucked against his package. Then she rocked gently. Talk about heaven and hell, pleasure and pain. Combustible friction. They might both come with most of their clothes still on.
He didn’t want that. Sliding his hands under her hips, he lifted and turned her, placing her on the bed while he knelt between her thighs.
“Luke…” She was panting and her eyes glittered as she fumbled with his zipper. “Could we—”
“Soon.”
“I’m—”
“I know. Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He abandoned the pleasure of her full breasts so he could pull off her boots.
She helped by unfastening her jeans and wiggling out of both jeans and red satin panties. When she kicked them away, she was…amazing.
Easing her back on the bed, he returned to the sensual playground that was Abby. He massaged and kissed her breasts while she pressed her fingertips into his scalp and arched upward.
The intoxicating scent of aroused woman swirled around him. When he reached between her thighs, she was wet and ready. He scooted down, hooked her knees over his shoulders and gave her the most intimate kiss of all. In seconds, she cried out as an orgasm claimed her and left her quivering.
Nuzzling her damp curls, he stayed with her until she came back to earth. Then he kissed his way to her mouth and propped himself on his elbows so he could gaze into her eyes. Her easy smile of feminine satisfaction was all the reward he needed.
She sighed happily. “Oh, Luke.”
“Oh, Abby.”
Her smile widened. “I’m going to love having you call me that.”
“Good.” He pushed away from the bed and began stripping off his clothes. “Because it really suits you when you’re naked.”
“Speaking of naked, slow down. I want to savor.” She moved so she was lying lengthwise on the bed and propped her head on her hand.
He slowed down, not because he was into showing off his body, but because it gave him time to appreciate how beautiful she was lying on a snowy white sheet. “Stretched out like that, you’re definitely more Abby than Abigail.”
“But not when I’m dressed?”
“Maybe not. But when you started unbuttoning your blouse, you turned into Abby in my mind. That’s why it popped out of my mouth.”
“So you won’t call me that other times?”
“Oh, I’m sure I will. Mostly when I’m imagining you naked.”
“Luke!” She started laughing. “I can’t have you doing that when other people are around. I’ll turn a million shades of red.”
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“I know. That’ll be fun.”
“I should dream up a nickname for you. I should…” Her voice trailed off.
“Should what?” He took off his boxers.
“I forgot.” She was focused on his privates, specifically his very excited cock.
Her heated gaze stirred him up even more. He approached the bed. “You wanted to give me a nickname. But you can’t shorten Luke.”
“Wouldn’t want to.” She glanced up. “Before you bring all that male beauty into bed and I lose my ever-loving mind, I just have to say it. You’re magnificent.”
“Okay, now I’m blushing.”
“It’s true. I’m a lucky girl.”
“You don’t know that, yet.” He climbed in beside her. “But if you’ll tell me where you stashed the condoms, you’ll soon find out.”
“In the lamp table drawer.”
“Logical.” He pulled open the drawer and took them out. He almost asked about the cupcake lamp but decided against it. He didn’t want to talk about her crazy taste in lighting. He didn’t want to talk at all.
When Luke turned away to fetch the condoms, Abigail took a steadying breath. She’d expected him to look good. She hadn’t expected a body that made her want to fall to her knees in gratitude. Or fall to her knees with a different purpose in mind.
Not this time, though. She longed to make that age-old, basic connection with him. She’d longed for that from the first time they’d danced, from their first kiss.
And now she would have it. He rolled on a condom and moved between her thighs. Balanced on his forearms, his gaze sought hers as he probed once, hands-free. That was confidence.
Her heart pounded. She could barely breathe. The next moment would be…
He pushed deep.
Perfect.
He went very still. Then his chest heaved. “Intense.”
“Mm-hm.”
“You okay?” His words were strained.
“Mm-hm. You?”
“More than okay.” His voice was husky. “Being inside you feels so…”
“Right?”
“Yeah. Like I’ve been waiting…” He swallowed. “Waiting for this.”
“Me, too.”
“Ah, Abby.” Holding her gaze, he began to move, stroking her with long, sure thrusts.
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