pickles and pasta salad. And French apple pie. I didn't have any key lime." Why was she reciting the menu? He hadn't asked.
"Jiggy's coming by to see you later. He's bringing Miss Scarlett back to Pappy's." Rick shook his head, fighting back a laugh as he rolled his tongue inside his cheek.
"What's wrong?"
"Jiggy's love life. Seems the parrot starts spouting scripture at the worst possible moment, and by the time he quiets the bird..."
"I see," she said, exaggerating her nod. If anyone but Rick had told her, she would have been laughing out loud, but instead all she felt was a stinging rush of blood to her face. Why did she let him get to her like this? she wondered angrily. Swallowing, she took a step forward and began again. "You forgot your jacket."
He was pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I thought I might have left it at Pappy's," he said, twisting to look at her while he squeezed honey onto a spoon. "Would you like a cup?"
"No, thank you." Why hadn't he come by for the jacket if he thought he left it there? Why hadn't he at least called about it? Why hadn't he...? The silent questions building in her head suddenly exploded. "Why haven't you answered the messages I left on your phone?" she demanded. He hadn't been answering her phone calls for a full five days, but that was no reason to blurt it out like a recalcitrant teenager.
The air conditioner started in with a warning rattle and then a blast of frigid air.
"Sorry about that," he said evenly. "I've had a lot of unfinished business to deal with since I got back from my trip."
Giving his coffee one last stir, he clinked the spoon against the edge of the mug before lifting it to his mouth. He did a thorough job of licking the residue of honey from the inside curve of the spoon and then the outside curve. The action was an everyday one, ordinary and commonplace, but when Rick performed it, it vibrated with erotic overtones. Suddenly she was picturing him sliding his tongue over parts of her. Her eyes began closing.
"You're right," he said as he dropped the spoon onto the tray with a loud clatter. "I should have called you back before now. I apologize."
She searched his guileless expression, trying to find a sign that he knew what he'd been doing to her, but her gaze kept coming back to the shine on his lips. She could almost smell the warm honey and, if she moved closer, taste it. She wondered what he'd do if she ran her tongue over his lips. Encourage further exploration? Images of their naked bodies tangled together filled her mind until she had to pull in a long and calming lungful of air. Why was she allowing these images to continue? Eroticism had been a much-heralded but ultimately disappointing undertaking for her. Still, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about what being with him would be like. Attempting to banish the confusing thoughts and the accompanying tension they produced, she tilted her head to a comical angle. "Yes, you should have called me... but I have you here now."
"Yes, you do," he said, reaching back with his hands and lifting himself onto the counter. "Up against the wall, as a matter of fact." Picking up his mug, he examined its sailfish decal before rubbing his knuckles over it. Before she could yell "Stop!" he was licking drops of honey from his fingers. "Hot," he murmured before looking up at her. "So what are you going to do with me?"
She'd stared a moment too long at his fingers. His incredibly sexy, wet fingers. Down went her guard in a rush of delicious confusion. What was he saying?
Hot?
Wet?
Up against the wall?
What was she going to do with him?
Streaming heat pooled in forgotten places inside her. Her lips felt full and tingling. For one lost second she felt like doing something very foolish. Very sexy. Very unlike herself. Finding herself in a free fall through her wildest fantasies, she struggled against them. He kept on smiling. Kept on staring. Kept on melting her resolve to pull out of this vortex of
"Jiggy's coming by to see you later. He's bringing Miss Scarlett back to Pappy's." Rick shook his head, fighting back a laugh as he rolled his tongue inside his cheek.
"What's wrong?"
"Jiggy's love life. Seems the parrot starts spouting scripture at the worst possible moment, and by the time he quiets the bird..."
"I see," she said, exaggerating her nod. If anyone but Rick had told her, she would have been laughing out loud, but instead all she felt was a stinging rush of blood to her face. Why did she let him get to her like this? she wondered angrily. Swallowing, she took a step forward and began again. "You forgot your jacket."
He was pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I thought I might have left it at Pappy's," he said, twisting to look at her while he squeezed honey onto a spoon. "Would you like a cup?"
"No, thank you." Why hadn't he come by for the jacket if he thought he left it there? Why hadn't he at least called about it? Why hadn't he...? The silent questions building in her head suddenly exploded. "Why haven't you answered the messages I left on your phone?" she demanded. He hadn't been answering her phone calls for a full five days, but that was no reason to blurt it out like a recalcitrant teenager.
The air conditioner started in with a warning rattle and then a blast of frigid air.
"Sorry about that," he said evenly. "I've had a lot of unfinished business to deal with since I got back from my trip."
Giving his coffee one last stir, he clinked the spoon against the edge of the mug before lifting it to his mouth. He did a thorough job of licking the residue of honey from the inside curve of the spoon and then the outside curve. The action was an everyday one, ordinary and commonplace, but when Rick performed it, it vibrated with erotic overtones. Suddenly she was picturing him sliding his tongue over parts of her. Her eyes began closing.
"You're right," he said as he dropped the spoon onto the tray with a loud clatter. "I should have called you back before now. I apologize."
She searched his guileless expression, trying to find a sign that he knew what he'd been doing to her, but her gaze kept coming back to the shine on his lips. She could almost smell the warm honey and, if she moved closer, taste it. She wondered what he'd do if she ran her tongue over his lips. Encourage further exploration? Images of their naked bodies tangled together filled her mind until she had to pull in a long and calming lungful of air. Why was she allowing these images to continue? Eroticism had been a much-heralded but ultimately disappointing undertaking for her. Still, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about what being with him would be like. Attempting to banish the confusing thoughts and the accompanying tension they produced, she tilted her head to a comical angle. "Yes, you should have called me... but I have you here now."
"Yes, you do," he said, reaching back with his hands and lifting himself onto the counter. "Up against the wall, as a matter of fact." Picking up his mug, he examined its sailfish decal before rubbing his knuckles over it. Before she could yell "Stop!" he was licking drops of honey from his fingers. "Hot," he murmured before looking up at her. "So what are you going to do with me?"
She'd stared a moment too long at his fingers. His incredibly sexy, wet fingers. Down went her guard in a rush of delicious confusion. What was he saying?
Hot?
Wet?
Up against the wall?
What was she going to do with him?
Streaming heat pooled in forgotten places inside her. Her lips felt full and tingling. For one lost second she felt like doing something very foolish. Very sexy. Very unlike herself. Finding herself in a free fall through her wildest fantasies, she struggled against them. He kept on smiling. Kept on staring. Kept on melting her resolve to pull out of this vortex of
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