“You’re beautiful. You’re my wish come true.”
“Aw.” I smile as that fluttering sensation warms my blood. “Good one.”
He winks at me. “Don’t put your hair up.”
I toss the rubber band onto a nearby table, finger-combing the tangles out of my hair before I sit down. By the time Dean has uncovered the plates, I’m even more in love with him. King salmon, wild rice pilaf, grilled zucchini, eggplant, and peppers.
“Our first date dinner,” I say. “At the White Rose.”
“Hoped you’d remember.” Dean pours two glasses of pinot noir and sits across from me. “Not bad with the courting you, huh?”
“On the contrary. All very good.”
I’m so happy to be sitting across from him again that I’m not sure I can even eat anything. But the food is delicious, and we soon ease into a comfortable conversation about the Wonderland Café, a few local events in Mirror Lake, and the next phase of excavation for the archeological dig.
We keep glancing at each other as we eat, and several times Dean reaches across the table to brush a speck of rice off my lip or push my hair away from my forehead.
“I can’t stop touching you,” he says, his gaze tracking over my face. “You look incredible. I know you kept telling me you were okay, but I hated not being able to take care of you.”
“I’ve done a pretty good job taking care of myself.”
“You really have, Liv. I’m proud of you.”
My heart fills with pleasure. It’s like the satisfying click of a puzzle piece fitting into place. I reach over to squeeze his hand in silent thanks before we return to our dinners.
The candles are half-burned by the time we start eating slices of rich chocolate torte for dessert. When we’ve both finished, Dean pushes away from the table and comes around to my side.
He grasps my hands and tugs me to my feet. His expression fills with warmth as he gazes at me for a long minute.
“And now, my beauty,” he says, placing his hands on either side of my face, “I’m going to kiss you like I’ve never kissed you before.”
Oh…
Desire brews in his eyes as he lowers his head to press his mouth against mine. I melt, falling into him as if we’ve never been apart, as if we’ve never had any heartache between us. The years slip away, my entire being sparking with that thrilling anticipation of discovering the depths of our attraction.
I part my lips under his, my body swaying against him as his tongue slides into my mouth. Lust flames through me, scorching my blood. He tastes like chocolate, his breath warm and delicious.
The ache of longing from the past few weeks disappears into this… all heat and light. The world both spins and steadies around me, a cascade so thrilling because I know that no matter how far and wildly I fall, Dean will always be there to catch me.
He takes my face in his hands, lifting his head just far enough so he can trail kisses over my cheek to my ear, down to my neck, then back up to my lips again. Each touch of his mouth sends shivers raining through me. His body heat burns through his shirt, and I press closer, my nipples hardening against his chest. I can feel the urgency coiling in him, the hunger that has gone unsatisfied for too long.
We tumble onto the bed together. Dean curls his fingers around my wrists to pin my hands beside my head. He shifts halfway on top of me, putting his leg over my thighs as he lowers his head to kiss me again.
His body is powerful and hot, his chest a solid wall of muscle against my breasts. He deepens the kiss, licking my lower lip, claiming me again. Pleasure swirls through me, thought disappearing into the reminder of everything we are to each other.
Dean releases one of my wrists and moves his hand to the front of my shirt, slipping two buttons free to expose a deeper V of skin and the swell of my cleavage. My heart kicks into high gear at the sensation of his hand on my bare skin, his erection pressing against my thigh. I’m drowning in images of our naked bodies sliding together, my legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into me again and again…
I close my eyes as Dean kisses the hollow of my throat, his breath steaming against my skin. I grip the back of his shirt, eager to pull it from the waistband of his trousers and run my hands over his muscular back.
And then, unwelcome and sudden, a wave of stark worries filters through my haze of lust.
It’s been at least twelve hours since I last showered… I’m wearing an old white bra that’s been washed so many times it’s gray… and, oh lord, when was the last time I shaved my legs…?
“You feel so damn good.” His muffled whisper brushes against my skin as he trails a kiss lower. “I want to…”
Then a sense of restraint goes through him as he slows the explorations of his hands and mouth. He lifts his head to look at me, his hand resting loosely against my throat, his eyes filled with heat.
I reach up to brush his disheveled hair away from his forehead, stroking my palm over his cheek.