She got up, not sure what to do with herself. Her gaze fell on the missing carpet, but that upset her more. “Can we do something?” she asked. “Get that window maybe?”
“Sure.” Boone got up and took both their glasses to the sink. He rinsed them out and put them in the drainer.
She looked him over, all the way up and down his long body. She liked him in those jeans. They were old and worn in a great way. No holes, just paler denim that covered that gorgeous butt to perfection. His shirt, also denim, did nice things to his back, to his wide expanse of shoulder. Altogether a wonderful package, but frankly, she liked him better without the wrapping.
“You want to grab your purse?”
“No,” she said, walking over to him, wishing his mouth weren’t so bruised. She touched his cheek as she studied his face. She’d remember him without the scars. Such a great face. Fabulous green eyes. Everything about him pleased her. Well, maybe not the way he shopped.
“What are you smiling about?”
She shrugged. “Happy thoughts.”
“Good. You deserve happiness.”
“So do you.”
“I’m happy right now,” he said, his hand slipping around her waist. “With you.” He bent and kissed her.
She parted her lips, conscious of how gently they had to proceed. He was hurt, and she was aching at the thought of saying goodbye. So gentle was good.
He hissed once, then changed his angle, and his tongue had to do all the work. That was okay with her. They kissed like that, standing by the kitchen, until her shoulders relaxed and her limbs got wobbly. He ran his hands over her back and down, cupping her rear and pulling her tight where she felt him hard and thick.
A moan and a squeeze, and he stepped back. Again, that smile, that sad little bruised grin, and he took her hand to lead her down the hall, into the bedroom.
The undressing wasn’t theatrical at all. Just hurried. He was naked first, all the way down to his long, elegant feet.
She still had her panties on, a sea foam green thong that cost more than a decent pair of shoes, which, from the look on his face, was worth every cent.
“Oh, my God,” he said. He looked up into her eyes, and she saw such helplessness there, such bewildered loss.
“Boone, honey, what is it?” She closed in on him, not at all sure what was happening.
“You’re so amazing.”
She fought a smile because the way he said it was pained. “Thank you?”
He touched her hair. Petted her, actually, and then his splayed hand spanned her neck as he pulled her close. She nestled right in the crook of his neck, inhaling his warm scent, still unsure what had gotten him so upset. “Boone? Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. She knew this because she felt his jaw touch the top of her head.
“Please?”
“You know that once we finish here, once the window is fixed and the money situation is straightened out, I have to leave.”
“You live in Pasadena. It’s not that far.” She knew it wasn’t that simple. That when he left, he would leave for good, but she couldn’t…Not yet.
“Right,” he said. “Pasadena. Nice town. Except on New Year’s Day.”
“You don’t go to the parade?”
“I don’t go to anything.”
The hand that wasn’t petting her hair was rubbing big circles on her back. It was the most soothing, wonderful feeling in the world. Meltingly sensuous, made more so by the contrast of his soft palm and calloused fingertips. He was right. It wasn’t fair, not in any way. This man, he was something. The way she felt about him was so different from anything she’d experienced before. It was too fast, of course. No doubt about it at all. But it was true, nonetheless. He had touched her. Changed her. All she wanted in this life she had back was to know him better. To learn him.
“It’s crap, Christie. What they’ve left us. It’s not just me. There are five of us, and we don’t go to things. We don’t see our parents. We pay cash for everything, but that’s not much because we might have to leave in the middle of the night with the clothes on our backs, so what’s the point of buying things? We don’t date, because wouldn’t it be just our luck to have someone try to kill us over a nice prime rib.”
“You’ll stop them,” she said, pulling back, meeting his eyes. Well, his one eye. “You will. But not today. Today, you’re going to make love to me. For a long, long time. Then, we’re going to finish the cookies, and make love again. Deal?”
He closed his eye and rested his forehead against hers. “Deal.”
She pulled his hands down to the top of her thong. He took it from there.