Her head was on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around hers, when the first burst of fireworks exploded in the barely dark sky. Paige gasped and tilted her head to look at him. “Did you know that was going to happen?”
“Of course I did.” He grinned. “Well, I knew it was going to happen. I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to see them, though. The town across the lake has a small show every night—a tourist thing, I guess—and I thought we’d have a view from here, but I wasn’t sure.”
Another burst, higher this time, and then another made Paige grin like a little kid. She loved fireworks, always had, though this was her first time watching them in the arms of a sweet, sexy man.
And it was the first time she was ever kissed breathless while a grand finale flashed and boomed overhead.
*
Mitch had made a deal with Paige and now it was killing him, but he couldn’t take it back. She was behind on work and he always had work to do, so they’d taken the big table at the back of the diner after her shift ended. They’d work for two hours and then he could have his way with her.
He hadn’t known when he’d agreed to it that she sucked the end of her pen when she was thinking. And she was doing a lot of thinking, so she was doing a lot of sucking. How the hell was he supposed to read reports from his crews when she kept sliding the pen between her lips like that?
When he nudged her foot with his, she looked up from the papers spread in front of her. She must have read his mind, because she frowned at him. “Mitch, really? It’s barely been twenty minutes.”
Damn. The night before last he’d finally had the pleasure of peeling that red sundress off her, but last night, between Ryan calling about the lodge and Scott about work and an inspector from Chicago, it seemed as if his phone wouldn’t stop ringing. By the time he was done, it had been too late to head to Paige’s. He knew he kept her up too late on a regular basis, as it was.
The end result was a bad case of wanting her and not wanting to focus on work. She didn’t seem to have that problem, though, as she kept on sucking that damn pen and occasionally using it to make notes on whatever she was reading.
When Ava passed through to refill their coffee mugs, Paige looked up. “Can you ask Gavin to come back here if he gets a free minute?”
“Sure thing.”
The kid didn’t waste any time, appearing before Paige had even finished putting cream and sugar in her coffee. Seeing the kid made Mitch feel a little old. He could remember when Gavin was little enough so his dad had to boost him onto a stool to order his ice cream. He fixed his coffee while the kid talked to his boss.
“How can so many people from Maine hate seafood?” Gavin was asking.
“I don’t think it was the scallops,” Paige said. “I think it was the Gouda cheese. And this veal with wine casserole you want to make… I’m a little hesitant about that. Is there any way you could substitute chicken first and see how people react to wine in their casserole before we spring for veal?”
Judging by the dramatic sigh, Mitch got the feeling the kid felt like an artist who’d been asked to paint a masterpiece with an elementary-school watercolor set. “I guess. Can I try the cold melon soup again? It’s perfect for the weather if people would just give it a chance.”
It was Paige’s turn to sigh. “Yes, but let’s come up with a different word for soup. People expect soup to be hot, so they’re not inclined to trust the dish right from the start.”
Gavin walked away muttering under his breath, but Paige just smiled and shook her head. “He thinks it’s tough now. Wait until he moves to the city and he’s low man on the totem pole. When he’s only allowed to cook what he’s told to cook, he’ll look back on this job with a lot more affection.”
“I ran into his old man the other day. He told me Gavin loves working here and it’s really building his confidence, along with giving him some real-world experience to take with him into culinary school.”
“I’ll miss him when he’s gone. And the specials board won’t be nearly so exciting.”
Whatever Paige did next required more writing and less thought, so Mitch was finally able to focus on the laptop in front of him. His leg rested against hers under the table and every once in a while she’d rub her ankle on his, which made him smile. Not bad conditions to work under, really.
If she had a bigger house, he could see them like this—maybe at the dining room table or the coffee table. The two of them working side-by-side until it was time to curl up on the couch to watch television, because he’d insist they get one, and then curl up in bed. It made for a cozy picture and it worried him his mind didn’t instinctively recoil from the image of domestic bliss. He didn’t do domestic bliss.
At the one hour and forty-five minute mark, his cell phone rang and he practically jumped on it in his effort to drive the silly thoughts about him and Paige and a house out of his head. “Hello?”
“Your brother’s an idiot.” It was Rose and she didn’t sound happy.