She stared at him and then laughed.
“But I swear I’m not like your brothers,” he said. “I don’t have a sister but if I did, I wouldn’t call her for money or help. I’d take care of her.”
Wishing that those words hadn’t moved her, she found some dish soap beneath the sink.
“Not my doing,” he said, lifting his hands. “Trudy. She takes care of this building and also me. I’ll have to give her a raise.”
Colbie made the water hot and squirted soap into the sink. “Put your hands in here and scrub a dish.”
He did and then slid her a look.
“Is your brain calm yet?” she asked. “And empty of thoughts?”
“Does imagining you doing these dishes in those heels you’re wearing and nothing else count as calm and empty of thoughts?”
Amusement and arousal vied for her current top emotion, which had never happened before. Having both those things barrel through her with equal fervor left her momentarily unable to decide what to do.
So her inner child came out and she splashed him.
Water dripping from his nose, hair, and glasses, he grinned—the kind of grin that felt like 100 percent trouble of the naughty variety.
Which, clearly, she was imagining.
“Now I’m imagining you wet and doing dishes in nothing but those heels,” he said.
Okay, so she hadn’t imagined anything and at the knowledge, her knees wobbled. “You’re . . . flirting with me.”
“I am. You okay with that?”
Oh boy. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “I’m just not used to the feeling,” she admitted. “I’m not sure what to do with it.”
“Let me help you with that,” he said and splashed her back.
This started a water fight that invoked squeaking—on her part—and swearing—on his part—and the most fun she’d ever had doing dishes ever.
After, he got them each a towel. “Are you cold?” he asked. “I’ve got some hot chocolate mix. I make a mean hot chocolate.”
She met his gaze. He’d had to remove his wet shirt, and somewhere along the way, he’d also lost his shoes. His feet were bare and for some reason, she found this combination incredibly sexy. Maybe she just found him sexy . . . “I do love hot chocolate but it’s getting late . . .”
“The hot chocolate comes with marshmallows,” he said. “If that interests you.”
“The freeze-dried marshmallows or real marshmallows?”
“Are you kidding me? Real, of course.”
She smiled. “So you’ve got your priorities.”
“Damn A straight.”
Gah. That smile. But she needed to think and she needed to do so without him looking at her, because when he looked at her like he was right now, like to him she was pretty and sexy and interesting, her, Colbie, not CE Crown, she couldn’t think at all. “Thanks for letting me in your space tonight.” She got the feeling it was special that he’d done so, and rare.
“Uh-oh.” His eyes locked on hers. “I sense both a ‘but’ and a blow-off coming.”
She shook her head. “Just a ‘but.’ ” She paused. “But . . . I really should go.”
“Before dessert.”
She bit her lower lip in indecision.
“What?”
“I’ve never successfully resisted dessert.”
He smiled. “A woman after my own heart. Sure, dessert is the base of my food pyramid.” He opened one of the pantry drawers. It was filled with cookies, candy bars, and more.
“Holy cheese toast,” she murmured. “It’s the mother lode.”
“Help yourself.”
Said the spider to the fly . . .
He began plying her with an armful of cookies and the like. He added on one too many packages of cookies and it all fell out of her arms to the floor.
Laughing, she bent low to scoop them up, just as he did the same. They bumped heads, and not nearly as graceful as he, Colbie fell backward to her ass.
“Sorry!” they both gasped at the same time, and then their gazes locked and there was that crazy spark again, bouncing through Colbie’s insides, touching down at all her good spots—of which she seemed to have far more than she remembered having.
Spence, still crouched low and easily balanced on the balls of his feet, dropped to his knees and pulled her up to hers. Brushing the hair from her forehead, he eyed the spot where they’d connected. “You okay?”
She started to say yes but his gaze slid to her mouth and she lost her train of thought, instead licking her suddenly dry lips.
Spence, watching the movement avidly, let out a rough breath. “Colbie,” he said quietly, in a very serious, very low octave that sounded like pure sex.
She stood up. “Y-yes?”
Also standing, he slid his hands up her arms, giving her a very slow tug, almost as if expecting resistance.
There was no resistance. Hell, she nearly took a flying leap at him.
He laughed softly, sending a bolt of heat through her. Her knees wobbled and his arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her. Their gazes locked and they both froze in place, she from a sudden rush of emotions, Spence probably from watching them play out across her face. She once again started to say something—still had no idea what—but was silenced by his hot mouth covering hers.
Yes was her only coherent thought and she pressed up against him as he angled his head, taking the kiss even deeper. His arms tightened on her, pulling her in hard, and she squirmed to get closer still, suddenly desperate to feel as much of him as she could.
He kissed her long and deep, and she heard a moan. Hers, she realized, shocked at the neediness of the sound as well as the hunger and desire that flooded her at the same time. It’d have humiliated her to the core if she’d been alone in this but with Spence’s arms closed around her, along with his rough groan, she knew he was right there with her.
When she was breathless—which took shockingly little time—and on the verge of ripping off his clothes, she forced herself to pull back. Out of her comfort zone, with her heart threatening to secede from her chest, she stared at him as the battle raged inside her. Fear and lust were in mortal combat, the outcome uncertain. “Okay,” she said breathlessly. “So now I’ve really gotta go.”
Spence drew in a deep, shuddering breath that wasn’t much steadier than hers and pulled off his now crooked glasses. “Hang on a second.” He tossed them aside. “I need to check on something.”
“What?” she asked warily.
Once again he slowly drew her in, his eyes heated and focused on hers, infusing her with some of his calm. “I want to see if this is how it’s going to be.”
“How what’s going to be?” she whispered.
“This.” His kiss started out just as slow and thoughtful as the first, all careful control. But when his tongue touched hers, control flew straight out the window. So did all good sense as they went at each other, desperate and hot. Suddenly, her back was to the wall and Spence was plastered against her front and she was trying to get even closer.
Good God.
When they broke apart rather than suffocate, they stared at each other, breathing unevenly.