A shiver went all the way through me. “Now all I can see is kissing you while you do that.”
His laughter choked off, and his pupils expanded. “Damn…never made it a spectator sport before.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m really not into those.” It was fun to watch him strain for something to say as his mouth opened and then closed.
Rendering Coop speechless had happened maybe five times in all the years I’d known him. I grinned. Touching my tongue to my fingertip, I drew a point in the air and made a sizzling sound.
That set him off laughing all over again. “Yeah, yeah. You definitely win that one.”
We laughed and teased all the way back to the apartment. Between us, we got the groceries in and put away, then turned dinner into a picnic in the living room, even if we had to fend off the cats while we ate our chicken, potato salad, and the hot rolls—though admittedly, they weren’t that hot now—he’d picked for his sides.
“Okay,” I admitted after slurping down more chicken. “This was an awesome idea.” Hungrier than I realized, I devoured it. We hadn’t worried about cutting it neatly, since the meat practically fell off the bones. My fingers were a mess though, when I went to suck some of the barbecue sauce off my fingertips, Coop caught my hand and sucked the digits into his mouth.
The flutter in my stomach intensified as he stroked each fingertip with his tongue, as if to be absolutely certain not a drop escaped him. Biting my lip, I locked gazes with him. The first real pull of suction against my fingers evoked an answering tug in my system.
“That’s so not sanitary,” I whispered.
Coop chuckled against my fingers. Then freed them before plundering my mouth with a kiss. I could taste his potato salad, but he went after me like he wanted to lap up any trace of the sauce lingering. When he let me up for air, I almost whimpered.
“Now it’s totally sanitary,” he teased, and I grinned. From scorching heat to delighted amusement, it was a delicate seesaw of feeling, and Coop’s easy grin and playful manner gave me something to latch onto. When he offered me a bite of chicken, I sucked his fingers into my mouth too and returned the favor.
His answering groan and twinkling eyes were worth it. All those kisses had been leading up to today, of that I had no doubt. But I wasn’t going to push. I was having way too much fun just playing with him.
“Do you remember Tommy Monaghan?” I asked after we’d cleaned up the remains. So much for the chicken lasting the rest of the week, we’d eaten it down to the bones and killed most of the potato salad. There were still a couple of rolls, but I doubted they’d last much longer.
“Dark haired kid…second grade?”
“First.”
“Yeah. Sorta.” Then he made a face. “Why?”
“Just… I remember he asked me to marry him in kindergarten, and you punched him in the nose.”
“No, I didn’t,” Coop said, swinging around to eye me. “Youdid.”
“Oh.” Huh. “Then why did I hit him in first grade?”
“Cause he told you that he was marrying you anyway.”
I rolled my eyes, and Coop wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me to him. “Why are we worried about people you beat up in kindergarten and first grade?”
“I beat up exactly two people.”
“It was more like five.”
“Two.”
The corners of his lips twitched. “Two or five, my question is the same.”
“I dunno, I was thinking about your birthdays and how we’ve spent some of them. For some reason, I keep thinking about when I punched him.”
“Oh. Fifth grade.”
Good grief, how many times had I punched this guy? “I don’t remember that…”
“’Cause Jake beat him up right after you hit him.”
Oh.