“I’m a quarter Irish. A quarter English. I believe almost half Scot, with a small amount of Norwegian and Scandinavian—what are you doing? Hey, that’s mine.”
She grabbed several containers, after having peered inside them with obvious disgust. “Cold Denny’s is the absolute worst.” She pried the hunk of sandwich out of my hand and dumped it in one of the containers. “And I believe that is mine, thank you very much.”
“You took forever. I’m hungry.” I licked my lips as she leaned over and the bodice of her dress dipped just enough for me to see the side of her unencumbered breast, cloaked in shadows. “Extremely so.”
“You’re eating my sandwich after clearly eating your own and—” She noticed the probably glazed expression on my face and set down the boxes with an altogether disturbing smile. “Oh, is that why?” She undid a few buttons while I tried to swallow over the sudden grit in my throat. “And here I’m so hot…”
I was five seconds away from undoing my shorts for necessary breathing room. “You certainly are.”
Her smile grew as she stacked the boxes again and glided across the lawn. I stared after her like a lustsick puppy.
Rather than waiting for her to come back, I followed. I walked through the path of her honey and floral scent and breathed in deeply, knowing I would never forget how she smelled mixed with the scent of lush greenery in high summer.
I swallowed again for a much different reason as bittersweet longing twisted inside me. Not the kind that came from anticipation, but loss. As if I already knew she was a fever dream, and I was on the verge of waking up.
But if that was the case, I was going to focus on where we were right now.
I opened the back door and couldn’t help but grin at how she looked in my kitchen. Her curls hellbent on escaping their loose topknot, the gap in her dress revealing enough skin to make me grip the door, and her clear annoyance as she turned dials on the oven and pushed buttons on the microwave like a pro.
My grin faltered. Like she lived here.
Like she belonged. Not just for a night, but a lifetime.
Instead of that thought making fire ants crawl over my skin, I leaned against the door jamb and let myself pretend that we were a couple for real. Maybe we’d gotten home late after a long day at the office, and she was irritated at me because I burned dinner. If that was the case, I probably wouldn’t be smiling and undressing her mentally.
But hey, it was my fantasy. I could do whatever I wanted.
“Why are you smiling?” She didn’t look up, just kept moving about efficiently.
“Why did you ask me if I was Irish?”
“The Irish linen. The tiny shamrocks on the china.” She gestured impatiently as she took down a pan from the ceiling holder above the island. “The Irish prayer banner thingy in the bathroom.”
“It’s a crocheted scroll made by my Grandma Doyle.”
“It’s pretty. I got a little nervous thinking it was a Catholic prayer until I looked closer. You know, since I follow a loose form of Wicca.”
I snorted. “If you knew my grandmother, you’d realize how ridiculous that possibility is. She’s a chain-smoking, rollerblading, kickass poker player who thinks the main reason churches form is for organized thievery.”
“Oh, I think I’d like your grandmother.”
“I think so too. My father hates her, and the feeling is mutual. Dex said it’s like a rite of passage. If the in-laws like you, it’s not meant to be.” I scratched my stubble. I hadn’t bothered to tidy up this evening, and my whiskers were already intense. “My mom loves you though.”
I expected Ryan to screech about the association I’d made with in-laws, but it was her turn to snort. “Your father covers the hatred bases for both of them. He wishes he could scorch the place where I’m standing with the power of his mind.” She shoved a pan of hash browns under the broiler and closed the oven door. “Speaking of him, what happened after he almost saw me naked?”
I shut my eyes and held up a hand. “Uncomfortable imagery.”
“Seeing me naked?”
“Hardly. Him seeing you naked.” I walked fully into the kitchen and let the door slap shut behind me. “Now where were we?”
She stuck the sandwiches in the microwave. Guess she’d found the extra sandwich I had gotten for us to share. “Did he ream you?”
“Your word choice leaves something to be desired.”
“So, in short, yes.” She hit a button and turned to look at the clock. “No wonder I’m starving.”
“You took forever in here. Did you take a nap?”