At first, I think she’s trying to block the burn odor permeating my apartment, but then I realize she’s hiding her laughter.
I plant my hands on my hips. “I try to make you a special dinner, and you laugh at me.”
She tries not to smile yet fails miserably. “Sorry. I just think you look so cute in that apron.”
I look down. I’d forgotten that I’d put my beach bum apron on to keep from getting gravy on the nice jeans and button-down I put on just for her. As you might imagine, the front has an image of a shirtless man in a bathing suit with an eight-pack I could easily envy if I didn’t have a decent six-pack of my own.
After I toss the thing off, I pull her closer, but she surprises me when she tugs me toward the door until her back is against it.
“What are you doing?”
A slight blush creeps into her cheeks, but her amber eyes are telling me a very different story. She lets her purse drop to the floor. “Recreating that kiss I never got at your parents.”
She has no idea what she’s doing to me at the moment. But I’m more than happy to oblige. I move in closer and prop my hand against the door near her head.
I’ve played it out in my head more times than I can count, but I’m not above teasing her a little. “This about right.”
“Almost.” Her flirtatious smile tells me she’s enjoying torturing me.
But two can play that game. I cup her face with my free hand, running my thumb over the softness of her bottom lip, which evokes a small gasp from her.
Game over.
She wins.
I claim her lips with mine as if she’s water, and I’m dying of thirst. She curls her hands into the front of my shirt and pulls me against her, making me groan. Kissing her like this tempts me to throw away all caution and lose myself in the taste and feel of her—something I would have done with the women I dated in the past. But this is Hannah—I want to take things slow so she’ll trust me.
And believe that when I tell her I love her, it’s not a game but the real deal. Not that I’ve ever told a woman I love her when I didn’t mean it. I’m not proud of my past, but I never would do that. I always made it clear I wasn’t interested in something serious.
But with Hannah, I want serious. I want to know I’ll see her almost every day. I want a future with her, filled with romantic dinners (the unburnt variety), movies snuggled on the couch, and plenty of kisses like this one.
I lighten the kiss, then pull my head away, which takes way more effort than I anticipated, especially since she seems eager to continue our make-out session.
“Can we take this a little slower?” I stare into her eyes, searching for her understanding.
Confusion flits across her features. And maybe something else. “Oh, okay.”
I draw her against me and wrap my arms around her to reassure her I’m not going anywhere. Takes her a moment, but then she settles against me with a long exhale. I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.”
She giggles against my chest. “Pizza works, too, you know.”
When I lean away to see her face, she looks up at me. “Then pizza it is.”
The warmth between us dissipates when I let her go, and I want it back. But first things first. I promised Hannah dinner, and I intend to deliver, even though it won’t technically be me but a pizza delivery person.
While I put in our order, Hannah snuggles Bandit, making me envious again. That dog gets the lion’s share of her attention, but I plan to change that.
Once the order’s done, I join her on the couch. “Dinner will arrive in thirty minutes.”
She snuggles against me. “Thank you for feeding me.”
“Anytime.”
“You know, I don’t understand how I never heard of your parents?” She turns her head to look up at me and rests her chin on my chest.
I’m not sure why she brought up my parents, but I take the opportunity to kiss the tip of her nose. “Probably a good thing.”
“Wow, you really don’t think very highly of them, do you?”
