His mouth found mine, kissing away the laughter. “Yes, we make a good team.” He kissed me again, his lips moving and tasting and worshiping, making my toes tingle and my belly heat with anticipation. “Just think about the restaurant idea. If you decide it’s crazy, tell me. But if you decide maybe it’s not so crazy… you know, tell me that too.”
Yes, sat on the tip of my tongue. But I had thrown myself into a relationship with another chef that made oh, so sweet promises before. It hadn’t ended well. And while I knew that Killian was nothing like Derrek, I still hesitated. “You’re out of control, Killian Quinn. I hope you know that.”
He nudged my knee to the side so he could fully step between mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto his t-shirt with two fists. He didn’t bother with a verbal answer. He just started kissing me again. And that was all it took.
All it took for me to relax into this very new relationship of ours. All it took for me to stop questioning and doubting and fearing every little thing.
All it took for me to give up whatever control I had left and give into his kiss and his touch and his crazy ideas that could never, possibly work.
Open a restaurant together? That was insane.
Insane.
And also brilliant.
My mind spun and spun and spun with pros and cons and the different scenarios and possibilities. But there were just too many unknowns. I couldn’t possibly predict what would happen if I gave up on the two tangible futures I had-Foodie or Bianca-and went wild card with my future.
I pulled back from Killian when my thoughts would no longer stay silent. “You would really give up Lilou to risk everything with me?”
He cupped my face with his strong, calloused hands and held my gaze. “Didn’t I just tell you I loved you? I would give up a hell of a lot more to risk everything for you, Vera.” He shrugged one shoulder in an easy up and down bounce. “Lilou is replaceable. I know I can work in any kitchen in any restaurant and cook anybody else’s food. What I want to do is work with you in our kitchen in our restaurant making our food. I want to be challenged and pushed and held accountable for this talent of mine. I can think of no other person that does all three of those things as effortlessly as you. Challenge me. Push me. Make me a better chef and a better person. And I promise to do the same for you. I promise not to stop challenging or pushing you until we find out just how crazy genius you are.”
I blinked at him, terrified and overjoyed and panicked all at the same time. “I can’t believe I’m thinking about this.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth, teasing me with his mouth and hot, roaming hands. “I can’t believe you haven’t said yes yet,” he countered on a rumbled murmur. “I’m not going to rush you, Vera. I want you to take your time and think it over. And then, go with your gut.”
I laughed gently, brushing my lips along the scruff of his jawline, his beard softly scratching against my skin. “You think my gut will lead me to you.”
He nodded, not even trying to hide his smugness. “I know it will lead you to me. Just like mine would lead me to you.” Without giving me time to respond, he kissed me.
And kept kissing me.
He kissed me so thoroughly I eventually wrapped my entire body around him and let him carry me to his bedroom.
Leaving the lights off, he tossed me on cool sheets and a rumpled comforter, then followed me down. Our bodies fit together in tangled seduction as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me. Our hands moved over each other—greedy, seeking, discovering. And then our mouths joined in the chase, tasting each other’s skin and bodies and secret places as we gasped for breath, numb and tingly with satisfaction.
Our clothes disappeared, one piece at a time until we were nothing but naked, hot skin and blinding desire. Need pooled in my core, want pulsing through every inch of my body.
Killian hovered over me, sitting back on his knees to take a moment to admire my body. Even in the darkness, it wasn’t easy to stay still. Insecurities twisted the beauty of our moment, whispering poisonous lies about my body, about what he would think of me. I wanted to be confident and clear-minded, but his gaze was too hot, too searing.
When I covered my breasts with a self-conscious arm, he tsked and reached for my hand. He laid it against my side so he could look at me once again. “Lovely,” he whispered with a husky, lust-filled voice. “So fucking lovely.”
My heart kicked in my chest. I wanted to say the words back to him, but I doubted he wanted to hear that I thought he was lovely too—gorgeous. He was perfect. All toned muscles and tanned skin. His tattoos blurred in the dark room, but I had them memorized by now. He made my mouth dry, and my insecurities melt away.
This man was mine.
Lifting my hands, I circled them around his neck and pulled him back to me. Our mouths found each other instinctively, and our hands moved over each other’s bodies, learning the way, discovering all the wonderful, intimate things that drove the other crazy.
When at last, his knees spread my thighs open, I was gasping desperate pleas for more against his mouth. He reached for a condom from the nightstand and fumbled for longer than I would have liked.
“Killian!” I growled.
He figured it out and swooped down. His chest brushed against mine, his length pressing at my core. “So impatient,” he murmured.
And then there was no more reason to complain. He moved inside me, filling, satisfying, driving me to a breathless precipice. We found our rhythm, pushing, pulling, the way we always were together.
My legs wrapped around his waist, needing him deeper. His kisses trailed over my throat, down to my collarbones. He took a nipple in his mouth, and I arched against him, desperate for more… for everything. And then he gave it to me. We came together in a panting, sighing, gasping harmony. Fireworks exploded behind my eyes and every part of me tensed in delicious climax.
He was all tight muscle and hungry need until it was over, then he settled next to me in a languid pile of satisfaction. “I love you, Vera Delane.”
It was less of a shock now, now that I was half dazed from sensation and bliss. “I love you too, Killian Quinn.”
We fell asleep bare naked and totally intertwined, legs, arms and torsos wrapped together in sated intimacy. He held me through the night, and my heart responded to the sweetness of his touch with clear acceptance.
I woke up thinking crazy thoughts about our future together… about our kitchen. I woke up smiling and laughing and delirious with happiness. Which was probably why I stayed with him all morning. He kept me close, never taking his hands off me, not even when he made the best pancakes I had ever had. I mean, ever. I mean the best pancakes in the history of pancakes.
It was also probably why I didn’t shut down his restaurant idea. Not the night before. Not in the morning. And not when he dropped me back at my car.
I didn’t even shut it down when he sent me a reminder text later that afternoon to just “Think about it.”
So instead of going away, this impulsive, short-sighted, irrational idea grew like a weed instead.