“Since I’m such a big deal to brag about.” He winked.
“You are.” She thought it was illuminating that while Krew had a dad who played for the Broncos, he’d rather brag about Caleb. Lacrosse wasn’t nearly as well known as football, but Krew didn’t care. “Sit,” she instructed him.
He arched his eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am.” He sat on a barstool and held up his elbows.
She pressed against his lean thigh muscles to get close enough and gently dabbed at the scrapes. The right side was worse, but they were both bleeding. She could hear Krew cheering for himself downstairs while the ball thumped with every bounce, but right here and now it was just her and Caleb. His slow, rhythmic breathing complemented her quick, elevated breaths.
“At least I saved the cake,” he said.
“That was some save,” she admitted.
“It was a chocolate cake.”
“You’re my hero.” It had been a heroic and instinctive save. She wanted him around if there was ever an emergency.
“I’ll do a lot for homemade cake.”
She laughed. When she glanced at his handsome face, she wanted to kiss him right then and there. Forcing herself to look back at his arms, she lifted the paper towels away. There were some ugly red scrapes, but they weren’t bleeding anymore. “I think it’s just a ‘flesh wound,’” she said, giving her best Monty Python imitation.
“Nice.” He lifted his arms up to inspect. “Oh yeah, I don’t even need a Band-Aid.”
“You might need a Band-Aid.”
“Naw. Seth and I were always getting beat up, burned, and broken. I’m too tough for Band-Aids.”
She shook her head. “You are tough, but I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
“Do you like seeing me, though?” His blue eyes turned serious.
She nodded. “I think that’s more than obvious.”
“I missed you even more than usual today. All I could think about was kissing you this morning.”
Emily sucked in a quick breath. She could relate. It had been hard to get anything productive done today with work, and even harder to not call Mylee and share every detail of those glorious kisses, but sharing would’ve made it too real, made it valid that they were “dating.” She couldn’t date him, and she shouldn’t kiss him again until she was through with Jeff, no matter how much she wanted to.
His voice deepened. “I won’t kiss you again …”
She swallowed hard and blinked to keep the emotion back. He wouldn’t kiss her again?
“Until we can officially date.”
She let out a relieved sigh.
He leaned closer. He didn’t touch her, but his warm, minty breath tickled her face; combined with his musky, citrus scent and the longing look in his eyes, it was more than enough to make her insane. “But just know I’ll be thinking about you and dreaming of your lips on mine.”
Emily swayed closer to him. Forget her stupid promise to that jerk Jeff. She was going to make Caleb’s dreams come true right this moment and kiss him until Krew got bored of shooting at that rebounder thing. She dropped the paper towels on the counter, leaned down, and gently framed his face with her hands. With him sitting on the tall barstool, he was only a little shorter than her.
“Em?” Caleb whispered. His voice was husky and full of hope, but there was also a warning note as if she were doing something wrong. Hang her overinflated guilt. She was falling in love with Caleb, and she’d made it almost a year on her misguided promise to Jeff.
She moistened her bottom lip, and Caleb let out a low groan. He wrapped his arms around her lower back and pulled her flush against him. Yes. This was happening. Her pulse hammered in her ears and her body filled with heat as she crossed the distance and brushed her lips against his.
“Em,” he groaned out. His eyes were full of desire, but she could hear the conflict and frustration in his tone. He’d just told her he wouldn’t kiss her until they could officially date, and here she went kissing him.
They didn’t move. Their bodies melded together, him looking at her so beseechingly and her wanting him so much that she could hardly stand the thought of waiting longer.
“Mama? Coach?”
Emily yelped and stepped back.