The urge to kiss him again surges through me. I want to pull him toward me again. I want to explore him properly, slink my arms around his waist, and breathe in his cotton-lemony scent. I want to take my time as I taste his lips.
“You’re a good kisser too,” I say finally.
His Adam’s apple moves. I’m probably making him super uncomfortable.
I avert my gaze. “So, Stella, what do you want to do next?”
“We should go camping!”
“Camping?” I look at Evan. He looks similarly surprised.
“I thought you didn’t like the idea of camping,” he says.
‘That was in the past,” Stella says airily.
I glance at the gray sky. “It’s pretty cold outside now.”
Stella’s expression turns thoughtful. “We can set up the tent in the living room, can’t we, Daddy?”
“Well—” Evan hesitates, then rakes a hand through his blond locks. “I suppose.”
“Yay!” Stella beams, then claps her hands.
“Make sure your room is clean,” Evan says. “I’m going to start dinner.”
Stella nods absentmindedly. “Vinnie can help you.”
Evan and I leave Stella’s room and head downstairs.
“I’m feeling better,” Evan says. “If you want to leave—”
“The paper Dr. Novak gave me was pretty specific,” I say. “I’m here for 48 hours.”
“Okay.” He gives me a wobbly smile.
I’m thankful he doesn’t bring up the kiss again. Instead, we go to the kitchen.
“So, um, what do you want to make?”
“Chicken, okay?” Evan asks.
“I can make it,” I say.
Evan frowns. “I’m feeling better.”
“That’s excellent. I’m still going to help you.”
He shrugs and sits in the armchair. “Okay.”
I cook in silence, and I try to keep my eyes from wandering to him with too much frequency.
I’m relieved when Stella enters the room.
“Why don’t you set the table, pumpkin?” Evan says.
Stella beams. “Okay.”
She leaves the room, and Evan frowns. “She normally doesn’t get excited about that task.”
