Some Like it Hotter

He was stunned.

Then nearly overwhelmed by tenderness.

“Hey.” He poured her wine and offered it awkwardly, realizing how stupid it was to offer her a drink when all he wanted was to hold her. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I know.” She laughed briefly, wiped another tear and stepped into the kitchen to accept her glass. “But if I knew you were going to be such a dumb ass I would have just called the police.”

“Dumb ass! Me?” He jerked his thumb to his chest, pretending outrage. “I was the ultimate hero out there. Thor, Iron Man and Captain America combined!”

“Okay, ultimate hero. And dumb ass.”

He rolled his eyes and poured himself wine, still shaken by her emotions—and his in response. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. But it worked out.”

“It did. And thank you, Ames.” She held up her glass to his. “I should have sounded more grateful, I was just terrified.”

“No worries.” He clinked with her, smiling at her over the rim, and took a sip, expecting her to do the same.

Instead, she lowered her head for a few moments, then lifted her gaze back to his, blue and warm and deeply vulnerable.

His smile faded. His heart seemed too big for his chest, was pounding too strongly.

Only the microwave’s obnoxious beep-beep-beeping saved him from kissing her.

If he kissed her, he’d want to kiss her again. And again. They’d end up in his bedroom. For that step, he needed his brain and intentions clear. Around Eva tonight, they were neither.

“Dinner’s on.”

“I’ll get silverware.” She put her glass on the counter and opened the drawer where he kept his plastic wrap and foil. “As soon as I remember where it is.”

“That one.” He pointed to the drawer next to the sink. “Get spoons, too, if you want ice cream for dessert. Mint chocolate chip. Very healthy. Mint is a vegetable, right?”

She giggled, first one all night, music to his ears. “Practically salad.”

“Then we’re set.”

They took their dishes to the dining room, a pleasant room that Ames pretty much never used. When he had friends over, they went out or ordered in and set up in the living room. He wasn’t much for formal entertaining at home. With all the restaurants in New York, you didn’t have to be.

“This is really nice wine. Is it one of yours?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I stomped the grapes in the basement last year.”

“I knew it.” She plunked both elbows on the table. “I was thinking about you visiting vineyards and how I bet it’s like visiting coffee plantations. There’s this really elemental connection to the beverage that you miss when you just buy the finished product in a store, you know? So much natural beauty that exists even in these highly cultivated plantings. And there are so many people involved, working so hard to make the plants flourish, the harvest successful, the processing of highest quality for the best end result.”

“Yes.” He understood exactly what she meant. He’d felt the same awe, the same respect for the natural and man-made power that went into the ruby liquid in his glass.

“Coffee flowers smell fabulous, too. Like jasmine.” Her expression turned wistful, distant. “I remember being completely enchanted by the smell as a girl. And they’re so beautiful.”

“Grape flowers smell more...herbal, I guess. And frankly they look like a bunch of broccoli.”

Eva giggled, sipped her wine. Her color was back to its usual healthy pink, but she was still subdued. “Where were you when I called?”

“At a bar near union   Square. The place we almost got to. Good beer, nice place.”

“Who—” She ducked her head and forked up more lasagna. “Lucky for me you were on your way back.”

His heart squeezed. Was she thinking he’d been on a date? Did it upset her? Maybe he should let her think that. It might be easier all around...

Aw, hell. “My brother, Mike, called. He was in town seeing friends, so we met for a drink.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” She nodded, her smile returning. “My sister is about my favorite person to spend time with. Are you close to Mike?”