He steps even closer until he’s right in front of me, closing any distance between us. He’s smiling so big, I can’t help but smile too.
“Thanks. Would you like a drink?” he asks, his gaze on me, but his hand touches my arm unexpectedly and the warmth turns to heat as he softly strokes up and down, ever so gently.
“Yeah, a soda, please.”
He raises a brow. “Alcohol? I have a bar.”
My mouth pops open, and I leave his face to glance around the kitchen, not finding any bar in or near it. “Where?”
“Just behind this wall.” He points to the entryway he was watching me from before.
I bring my gaze to his intoxicating eyes and smirk. “Maybe next time.”
His face brightens and a matching smirk forms as he whispers with a wink. “Next time?”
I roll my eyes at his insinuation, and a small laugh leaves me. “A slip of the tongue.”
His eyes flicker to heat, and I realize what I’ve said. I choose to ignore it, but then it gets the better of me. “I didn’t mean it in that way.”
“What do you mean?” He smirks, but there is a twinkle in his eye.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
The butterflies turn into an ache that sinks into my belly.
“What are you talking about?” Aria asks from behind me.
I jump and slap a hand to my chest, feeling my heart beating hard behind it. When did she sneak up on me? And how much did she hear?
“Nothing, we were just grabbing sodas. Did you want one?” Marc asks.
I drop my hand and realize I’m still holding the bag of snacks. “Where did you want these?”
“I’ll pop them in a bowl.” He goes to take the food, and our hands touch, a buzz running through my arm from the brief connection.
“I can do it,” I say with a smile. I need something to do. “Just point me to where the bowls are kept.”
He turns, and I get a whiff of his sexy cologne, my body rumbling awake at the memories of that smell stuck to the sheets back in Chicago. I definitely didn’t wash my sheets for a while. I probably shouldn’t admit it, but it’s true.
He grabs a bowl from one of the top cupboards. “Here you go.”
I had been staring at him, as I was lost in a flashback, so I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. When I trail my eyes back to his, I see him wearing an amused look.Busted. He knows I was checking him out; I’m just grateful he can’t read my mind.
“Thanks.” I move to the counter and help. Our bodies stay side by side, and the feeling that runs through me is nice, almost domesticated.
“Are you ready?” He inclines his head with a grin.
I bite my lip. Disappointment from having to lose the moment of us alone mixes with excitement that there will be peace for an hour and a half, at least. My mind needs to do something that doesn’t involve feelings; it’s getting tired from all the work. I just want to recline in a comfy chair and eat snacks with him in the room. “Yep.”
“Let’s go. Follow me.” He smiles, then dips his head and touches my upper back, guiding me. I love the subtle touches on me any moment he can. It’s like he can’t get enough of me, and it keeps the desire and the feeling that he wants me at the forefront of my mind.
I carry the bowls, and he holds the drinks as I follow him. The shiny wooden floors look almost new.
“How long have you had this house?”
“Ten years.”
“Really? Wow.”