One soft and quick flick of his stubble against my skin. That simple of a touch, and it sent my pulse all over the place.
Before I could stop myself, before I could restrain the need to lean into the contact, my body was moving back. My shoulder blades came to rest against his chest, and the back of my head against his throat. Warmth draped around me, turning me supple and alive in his arms. All at once.
He held his ground, welcoming my weight, reminding me of yesterday, of our hug, only different. This time, it wasn’t about comfort and support. This time, every nerve ending in my body crackled with electricity.
“I’m making sure the knot holds,” he said in a low, gravel-like voice.
I nodded my head, remaining very still while I watched his fingers work. Once done, his palms came to rest against my belly. As if incapable of letting go.
My eyelids fluttered closed at the contact, at how his hands were now pulling me to him ever so lightly.
Then, I heard him rasp at my ear, “You’re ready now.”
Opening back my eyes, I swallowed the need to tangle my fingers with his and pull him even closer. All around me. “Thanks,” I breathed out. Then, looked down. “It looks like you did a very thorough job.”
Lucas’s jaw brushed against my cheek again and all the air from my lungs caught somewhere in my throat.
“I’m a thorough man,” he answered. “I don’t do things halfway.”
And without another word, he stepped away, my whole body turning cold at the loss of his body heat.
I heard Lucas clear his throat before he moved back to the counter.
“Aren’t you going to wear an apron, too?”
“I don’t think I’ll need one.” The corners of his lips tugged up when he faced me, as if nothing had just happened.Although, what just happened?“Now, come here, Rosie. You won’t be able to cook all the way over there.”
“Okay.” I obeyed, making a move in his direction. “But don’t think I’ve missed the way you’re implying I’m messy.”
He barked out a laugh and muttered something I didn’t catch in Spanish.
I leaned on the counter and frowned. “What did you just say? It’s a little unfair that I can’t understand those little things you mutter under your breath.”
“I said,Dios, dame paciencia,” he admitted. “Which means, ‘God, give me patience.’?”
My eyes narrowed. “What do you need patience for? I’m not that bad of a cook.”
Lucas ignored my teeny-tiny lie and dragged the plastic container toward me. “Step one, we stretch the dough.”
He took the lid off, revealing two smooth balls. His index finger delicately pressed into one of them. “These have been proofed already; see how the dough bounces back?”
Imitating him, I patted one of them, too. “Yes. I see that. And I can also tell you, mine never looks like this when I attempt it at home.”
A low chuckle came from my left. “I can show you how it’s done some other day. Now, let’s dust the counter so it doesn’t stick to it.”
He turned away and dragged the flour closer to me.
“So, an experimental dateanda master class. I’m a lucky girl.” I took some flour with my fingers and sprinkled the counter. “Did Sandro leave these for us? He must really, really like you.”
“Oh, I wasn’t joking when I said I totally won him over,” he said, adding some more flour himself. “He even wants to introduce me to one of his daughters.”
I stiffened.
Lucas continued, “But I prepared these myself. I came by early today and left everything ready for us. Minus the candles. Those I brought only when the boss wasn’t around.”
Whatever jealousy I was feeling was wiped clean.He spent the day at the pizzeria? While I was home working and thinking he was out and about exploring the city?
“Before you complain.” Lucas snatched one of the dough balls and placed it in front of me. “I was very curious about the hydration rate he used. And the only way he was going to talk about that was by infiltrating his kitchen.” He extracted the other piece of dough from the container and put it down on his side of the counter. “He was reluctant at first, but when I told him…” He trailed off, and he shook his head. “But he shared it with me.”