Page 62 of Hearts Don't Lie
Hardin set his phone down and turned, leaning against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other. “Tell me about dinner at Issa and Doc’s—that’s her husband’s name, right? I want to meet them.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“It is tomorrow. You mean today?”
“Yes. Today. For coffee. Would you be okay with that?”
“Absolutely. We’re both going to need some. Are you working today?”
“It’s my day off, but I’ll probably go in for a few hours and help. We’re slammed.”
“I’ll help too.”
“Thank you for that, babe.” Mac cleared her throat. “In a nutshell, I told them you’re Stowe’s father. That you didn’t know about him because I left Illinois when I discovered I was pregnant. And that you’ve been looking for me for forever and found me and that was all I wanted to say. Then we had dinner.”
“Mike probed, but I didn’t say much other than to confirm what you’d shared, I think. Everyone wants to know more.”
“I’d prefer not to share until Stowe has all the story, in age-appropriate terms of course, and his questions answered. But, realistically, that’s not going to happen. Everyone is dying to know. We’ll just have to caution everyone to be sensitive. Thoughtful. Patient.”
“If Mike is any indication, you’re right. I’m one hundred percent on board with you. You lead. I’ll follow.” He spiked his fingers through his dark waves. “I’m really trying to do my best here, honey.”
“I know you are,” she said softly. “Open.”
He opened his mouth. She slipped a raspberry into it, then followed with a blueberry, brushing the pad of her finger slowly across his lips and giving him an impish smile as she licked it. “To stave off the hunger while things cook.” She returned her attention to the cooktop, adding coconut oil to the cast-iron skillet and turning the flame on medium-low.
It was a total turn-on cooking with her, being playfully seduced. Hardin approached her from behind. “Ready for the veggies?”
“Yep.”
He added them to the melted oil and then slid his arms around her trim waist, resting his chin lightly on top of her head. “Smells good.” His body stirred and he pressed his arousal into the small of her back. “Feels delicious,” he said, growling softly.
“We’re near an open flame. Behave yourself, sir.”
“Kind of matches what’s going on inside me, honey.”
“Well, as sorry as I am to say it, you need to bank that flame of yours and eat. I can’t have you quitting on me later,” she said lightly.
Hardin pulled her back from the cooktop and turned her to face him. His hands framed her face and his expression was intense. “I’ll never quit on you, Mac. Never.”
She kissed him so tenderly it made his breath catch, and then he became lost as it sparked into hungry and hot.
The smell of charring meat and potatoes snapped them out of their kiss.
“Oh no!” She shut off the burners under the bacon and hash browns and inspected them. They had just begun to burn. Mac flipped the bacon and stirred the potatoes. “A little done, but crisis averted. Can you get the plates and forks? Upper-left cabinet. Drawer below it.”
Hardin chuckled while he got the plates and forks. “Eggs?”
“Hold on.” She ripped off a paper towel and laid it on the top plate, then scraped thesautéed vegetables on top to drain. “Ready.”
Hardin emptied the egg mixture into the pan and Mac stirred, adding the cheese and cooked vegetables after the eggs were fluffy. He licked his lips as she divided the vegetable scramble onto the plates, giving one plate clearly more. She did the same with the potatoes and bacon, then pulled two white ramekins from another cabinet and filled them to almost overflowing with the berries.
“Water?” she asked, filling a glass carafe. “We can eat at the island.”
“Do you have anything against eating in bed?”
His voice was teasing, easy, but the question caught her off guard. Her body tightened in response. Since she’d left Illinois, eating was done in the kitchen or outside. A strict rule in her home, stemming from growing up and sharing a mobile home of six hundred square feet, of being on top of one another, of always trying to find an area clear of clutter, bugs, and dirt.
“Honey? Are you okay?”
