Pit Stop: Baby! (Crescent Cove 4)

I slid it onto the platter thingy I’d borrowed from my sister and garnished it with a few of the carrots—the ones that didn’t end up in my mouth. I shifted to finish up my potatoes and served them and my honey-glazed green beans just as the door opened.

“Honey, I’m home,” Gage called.

I laughed and sniffled a little more. Stupid smoke.

“Oh, you cooked? For real?”

“What gave it away? The apron?” I looked down at myself and grinned at the phrase about tongue-kissing the cook. That had also been a thrift store find. I’d probably better stay out of there for a while.

“Also, the delicious smells. What did you make? Oh.” He stopped halfway over to me and stared at the table. “You did all this?”

“You said it was a big night.” I shrugged. “So, I figured I’d play at being the little wifey—um, I mean woman.”

There was no missing how Gage’s gaze sharpened. His caramel brown eyes raked over me and for a second, I wanted to snatch the word back.

I wasn’t greedy enough to assume more than I had already was on the table. Not when he’d already given me so much more than I’d ever expected.

“It all looks wonderful.” He moved to me and cupped my shoulders as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. Then he gripped my chin and took possession of my mouth, slipping his tongue inside to toy with mine. How he could be so sweet and so commanding at the same time, I would never understand.

At least not when I was pooled on the kitchen floor.

“The roast is burnt,” I gasped once he eased back.

“Put more gravy on it,” he suggested before he headed toward the bathroom.

Huh. That was a good idea.

I’d just finished ladling the gravy over the roast and the potatoes when he reemerged. “Oh, crap, I forgot dessert.”

He licked his lips, eyeing me thoroughly. Under my apron and T-shirt, my nipples hardened to points. Didn’t take much lately, and Gage’s smolder worked like magic. “I think we can make do.”

“Celebration nookie?”

“You could say that. Or just anytime nookie. Or Gage-can’t-keep-his-hands-off-Rylee-because-she’s-so-fucking-gorgeous-he-can’t-breathe-nookie.”

I smiled and poked at the roast on the platter with my long-handled fork. Also borrowed from my sister. “You’re a sure thing. You don’t have to flatter me, Kramer.”

“Who’s flattering? I’m just telling the truth.” He came close and tugged me against him. “How do you feel about eating dinner while sitting on my lap?”

“I feel like that’s an exercise that has a limited time engagement.” I patted my belly and looked up under my lashes to find him doing that molten gaze thing again.

“All the more reason we should do it now.” He sat down and started to drag me to him, but I held him off, giggling and darting out of his reach.

Since I had a good idea of what his news involved, it was better if I kept my distance. I had rehearsed my speech, and if he was too close, I might not be able to pull it off.

If I even could at all.

“Ruiner.” But he smiled at me just the same as I sat down opposite him at the table.

“I don’t want to interfere with your digestion. Supper is the most important meal of the day.”

“I thought it was breakfast?”

“Yeah, but when are we ever up early enough to eat before lunchtime?”

“Oh, I’m up.” He grinned.

I rose and tossed a cloth napkin at him. I’d forgotten to add those to my dinner spread. Utensils too, which I removed from the drawer beside the stove. “You’re definitely up, but we aren’t worried about food before lunchtime. How’s that?”