And then we weren’t laughing anymore.
“The food,” she said as our lips hovered a hairsbreadth apart.
“The food,” I agreed, searching her eyes. Needing to see in their blue depths even a hint of the chaotic emotions rocketing through me.
She was right there with me. I was sure of it.
I rubbed my thumb over her silken cheek. “It doesn’t happen anymore.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my tone.
“What?” Then the side of her mouth lifted. “You mean the fire.”
“Oh, the fire still happens.” Lightly, I ground into the apex of her thighs.
There was no denying that the temperature between us was hot enough to leave only destruction in its wake. And I wanted more.
Wanted everything with her.
“The spark when we touch,” she amended. “I couldn’t really shield myself at first with you. I didn’t expect anything like that.”
I frowned. “You’re shielding yourself now? Whatever that means?”
She flexed her wrists in my hold. “Sometimes. It’s also kind of like static electricity. Your body gets used to the charge. But opening yourself up to it changes the intensity.” She looked up at me under her thick dark lashes, as if she knew what I was going to ask.
Steeling herself for it.
“Will you open yourself up to me?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“So, show me. Teach me.”
Her breath caught. “You can’t control something like that. Once you open the door, anything can happen. It’s not something you can turn on and off.”
“You don’t have to hide yourself with me.” I dropped my forehead to hers and let her feel the weight of my words against her trembling lips. “You can trust me, Ryan. I swear.”
For a second, her eyes were too bright. Then she arched up on her tiptoes to capture my lower lip between her teeth. “You don’t want me unshielded until I eat, PMS. Trust me on that.”
“Okay. How much longer?”
“Not much.”
“So, we’ll dance.”
I told Alexa to play more Elvis, and we danced next to the oven in my kitchen. The memories of her easy laughter as I whirled her around and around would probably fuel me for a lifetime.
Or so I told myself when that longing feeling swept over me again while we were eating by lantern light outside in the dark. The breeze kicked up, slightly lessening the oppressive humidity, and she told me about her mom while she fed me gooey bits of egg and cheese and ham with her fingers. I only nibbled her fingertips every other time or so.
“She always shows up in the summer. Usually, without warning. Blows in like a summer storm to tell me all about her fabulous new adventures. Her van is an Airstream now.” She shook her head and nibbled on a crust. “She always asks why I stay by myself when the world is full of so many hot, wealthy men.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, especially when she looked down at her plate as if it was a crystal ball. What she was seeing there I was almost afraid to ask.
“Will you tell her about me?”
Twenty-One
Her depthless eyes flashed up to mine, somehow gleaming blue even in the low light. Or maybe that was my newly found fanciful side talking.
“Tell her what, PMS?”