“I try my best. Why?”
“Well, we have the allotment annual awards at the end of August. The best fruit and veg, best plot, best shed, funniest shaped fruit and veg, that kind of thing. Would you be able to design something for it, please?”
“Sure, not a problem. If you have a list of the awards I could have, I’ll get on it tomorrow.”
He seemed taken aback by my enthusiasm.
“I have one here.” He pulled a piece of paper off his clipboard and handed it to me. “Thank you,” he stammered and stomped off.
Luke snaked an arm around my shoulder and looked at the list. “Do I have a love rival?”
His lips were quivering as though trying not to smile. I slapped his ass.
“It depends on how satisfied you make me tonight.”
“Oh, yeah?” He gathered me in his arms. I could feel the start of his erection.
“Yeah,” I murmured back, our lips almost touching.
“Then I’ll make sure I’m on my A game tonight.”
* * *
* * *
Luke
I’d checked my homemade moussaka in the oven and started on the Greek salad to go with it. I hadn’t thought to ask Fliss what she liked eating but took a gamble that she’d love this.
The bell chimed, and I strode over to open the door. I wasn’t prepared for the beautiful woman standing on my doorstep. Her hair was loose, and a sexy, slinky dress clung to her curves. It was so short that, if she bent over, I’d be able to see everything.
“You look hot, Red. I’m just wondering how I’m going to get through dinner without you being the main course.”
“Just make sure you save some room for dessert, then.”
Colour rose high in her cheeks. She handed me a bottle of wine and brushed past me, making sure her hand touched my thigh. I slammed the door shut, put the wine on the floor, and pushed her against the wall, kissing her until we were panting for breath.
“Good to see you too.” A grin covered her lips.
“Do you mind me calling you Red now?” I held a lock of her hair between my fingers, marvelling at the colour.
“Not at all. Actually, I find it sexy.”
I groaned and ushered her into the living room.
“What is that delicious smell?”
“Moussaka. I hope you like it. I didn’t think to ask.”
A huge smile curved her lips. “I love Greek food.”
The oven timer pinged, signalling the moussaka was ready. I stood up and offered my hand to Fliss. I held out a seat for her at my kitchen table, then fetched the salad out of the fridge and moussaka from the oven. She watched intently while I dished it up. It was when she put the first forkful in her mouth that I almost died.
“Oh, Luke. This is divine. Oh. My. God,” she moaned.
My cutlery clattered on the plate, and I rubbed a hand across my face.
“Luke?” Concern was in her eyes.