“Don’t doubt it.” I pause for a moment, feeling as though I’m being held captive by her gaze, before I whisper softly, “You’re beautiful. Never doubt that.”
The astonishment on her face pisses me off because it means she’s either not been told that enough to believe it, or I’m more of an asshole to her than I realize. Not sure why it matters, but I’m bothered she appears surprised I find her beautiful.
“Fos? Are you molesting Noelle?” Laney calls out from the kitchen. “What’s the dang hold up?”
Swallowing thickly, Noelle attempts a light tone. “She thinks you’re molesting me so we’d better hurry up and get in there.”
I release my grip on her wrist, but before she can turn to head for the kitchen, one of my arms slide around her waist, other hand coming up to cup her cheek. And I act on pure instinct alone.
My lips. On hers.
I’m kissing Noelle Davis, my lips leading the way while a tiny part of my mind is noting that I’m not kissing her like I usually kiss women. This kiss is soft, sweet, and has a tender quality to it. It just feels different.
Until it suddenly changes, like something inside of me snaps. The instant my tongue slides inside and touches hers, it’s like a surge of electricity zaps me. Every part of my body sits up in attention.
Every part.
Which makes this far more inappropriate since I’m getting a major hard-on in my mother’s house. With my sister in the kitchen.
Classy, Kavanaugh. Classy.
For a split second, I realize what I’m doing—what we’re doing—and know I should pull away. But the moment her hands fist the sides of my shirt, her body arching against mine, her tongue darting and sliding against mine, eliminates the thought.
“Foooooossssss! Dude! What are you doing out there? You better not have pissed Noelle off and made her leave!”
Laney’s voice startles us and we break apart, our breathing ragged. Immediately, thoughts race through my mind at warp speed.
Holy shit. I just kissed Noelle.
Where’s the nearest flat surface? Because as long as Laney gives me two minutes, I’m good.
Two fucking minutes? That’s just embarrassing.
Fuck! She’s my employee. I can’t do this shit.
Maybe I can kiss her again. Really quick. With more tongue this time.
I’m so fucking screwed.
“You planning on letting go of me?” Her attempt at bravado falls short. She knows it; I know. The lingering, breathy quality to her voice gives it away.
“You planning on letting go of my shirt?”
Releasing her tight hold, she smooths it out, avoiding my eyes. And that part I get. I’m feeling awkward, too, at complete odds, but I’m also scared shitless. Because if I see a hint of that something in her eyes, I’ll take her on my mother’s damn dining room table.
The same table we’re due to eat dinner on tonight.
It’s a pretty damn sturdy oak table, though. It could probably withstand— Fuck. See? My brain is fried.
I can’t do any of this because it would be so fucking foolish. Not only because I’m not the kind of guy she needs, but I’m not in the market for a relationship. Ever.
“Hey—” My attempt to salvage anything is cut off when Laney calls out again.
“Fos! Noelle! I’m about to eat all of the prosciutto!”
This gives Noelle an excuse to turn, still not meeting my gaze, and start off in the direction of the kitchen. Just as we’re about to enter and join my sister and mother, I slide an arm around her waist, drawing her to a halt, her back against my front. With my mouth close to her ear, I notice the tiny shivers my breath induces when I speak softly.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the kiss.”
She attempts a casual shrug. “No worries. We can forget it ever happened, Kavanaugh.”
The fact that she can—and wants to—dismiss what just happened chafes. A whole hell of a lot.
“I don’t want to forget it.” My voice comes out in a low growl. “In fact, I don’t think I could even if I tried. I’m more concerned about you feeling safe with me. Not worried because you think I’ll try to take advantage of you.”
She pats the arm I still have wrapped around her waist in the most placating manner, setting me on edge. “Nothing to worry about, Kavanaugh. You use it as spank bank material, and I’ll continue feeling safe around you and keep my job. It’s all good.”
Then she walks right into the kitchen, casual as can be, joining my sister and mother. And me?
I’m left standing here, my lips burning with the memory of our kiss. The kiss Noelle wants to forget. The kiss I should forget. The kiss I don’t want to forget. Which means one thing.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter Sixteen
Noelle
“Did you know he was obsessed with the lawn mower when he was little?” Laney snorts, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes which dart over to her brother for a brief moment before they return to me.
“Laney,” Foster growls out a warning. Which does nothing. Absolutely nothing. In fact, it spurs her on even more.