Pieces Of Us (Angel Sands 6)
“Does six work?”
“It does for me.”
She let out a long breath. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah, you will.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against her brow, his hand cupping the back of her head. The warmth of his mouth was like a shock to her skin. Then he was gone, walking back across the sand as he lifted his board with one hand, waving goodbye to her with the other.
“You okay?” Ember asked her once she’d returned.
“Yeah.” Autumn nodded. “I’m good.”
Brooke eyed her speculatively, but said nothing. She could feel their unasked questions lingering in the air.
“So tell me about your wedding plans,” Autumn said to Brooke. “Maybe we can start to work something out.”
* * *
Griff ran his fingers through his hair, raking it back from his face before he rapped on Autumn’s front door with his knuckles. Funny to think about how much time he’d spent here over the past few years since Lucas had renovated it. Long hours watching sports on his big screen television, even longer cooking out on his grill and drinking ice cold beers as they laughed. But not once had he felt the rush he was feeling now.
And it was all down to her.
Autumn opened the door, a huge grin on her face. Her hair was down, light brown waves cascading over her shoulders. She was wearing a dress again, this one with spaghetti straps and a fitted bodice that skimmed her curves before it flared out at the waist. Her skin held a light tan, enough for him to guess she’d sat on the beach for a while after he left this morning. The glow suited her, made her even more attractive, if that was possible.
The caveman in him wanted to lift her up and carry her to her bedroom.
“I brought wine,” he said, passing her a bottle as he stooped to kiss her cheek. She was barefoot again, and he liked the way she looked so relaxed. It was as though any vestige of her life in New York had left her, making her as laid back as the Californian sun.
“Sauvignon blanc,” she murmured. “My favorite.”
“I know. I saw the way you were knocking it back last night.” He winked at her.
She shook her head, the grin still lifting her lips, then gestured for him to come inside.
“I’m making steak and potatoes. I hope that’s okay.”
“Are you kidding? I love steak.” He followed her into the kitchen where she opened the bottle and poured them both a glass. She passed one to him and lifted the other. “To new friends,” she said, her eyes sliding to his. “And working light bulbs.”
He clinked his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.” The wine was cool and crisp against his tongue. He swallowed it down and put his glass on the counter. Next to it was a plate holding the biggest steak he’d seen in a while. It had to be at least twenty ounces.
“Are we sharing that?”
“That one’s yours. Mine’s here,” Autumn told him, pointing at another plate. “I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be, but I figured you probably eat a lot. You have a busy job and you’re…” she gestured at his height. “You.”
“If you cook it rare, I’ll probably eat the whole thing before you lift a fork,” he told her. “Can I help with anything in here?”
“You can set the table while I cook the steaks,” she said, pointing to the silverware on the side of the counter. “The potatoes are in the oven and the salad’s in the refrigerator. I think I have the food covered.”
* * *
The food tasted amazing. Within fifteen minutes Griff had finished everything on his plate, laying his silverware down on the white porcelain and leaning back on his chair to rub his stomach.
“How did you learn to cook steaks like that?” he asked her.
“It’s all in the cut.” She lifted another forkful of steak to her mouth. “And the preparation. I like to tenderize it and let it rest, then add a rub an hour before I cook it.”
“Well it was delicious. Thank you.”
She smiled. “It’s nice to cook for more than one person. I’ve been living on pasta for a while. There never seems much point in doing all the work when there’s nobody to eat with.”