Loving Bailey by Evelyn Adams Page B

Her face flushed
and her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest. She took
another swallow of her wine and managed a smile over the rim of her
glass.
    “I can’t wait,” she said. His answering smile
was so genuine and filled with so much heat, she felt her stomach
tighten in anticipation.
    “What’s first?”
    “Go ahead and grab the fresh herbs and the
olive oil. You can start the marinade for the lamb and the dressing
for the greens.” Bailey reached across the counter and pulled the
bag of peas to her. While Spencer gathered the other ingredients,
she started pinching the stem end off the peas and pulling away the
long string.
    “Is this it?” He held up one of the bundles
summer savory and a small bunch of thyme.
    “That’s it. Just chop the savory, strip the
thyme and run a knife through it.”
    She went back to stringing the peas. When she
looked up a moment later, Spencer was standing, knife poised over
the cutting board, a pile of wacked up savory on one side and the
thyme untouched on the other. He glanced up and saw her watching
him. His face split in the sheepish grin which managed to make him
look even sexier.
    “Need some help?” she asked, resting her chin
on her hand and running her thumb over her bottom lip.
    His gaze followed the movement of her thumb,
back and forth over the tender skin, and just because she could –
because she’d never really done anything that brazen before – she
bit the tip of her thumb and watched his blue eyes go dark with
hunger.
    “I’m not sure,” he swallowed hard, “how to
strip the thyme.”
    The power of having a man sexually attracted
to her was a heady feeling and something Bailey was pretty sure she
could get used to. She hopped off of the stool, a little surprised
at how much she was feeling the wine.
    “Let me help,” she said making her way around
the counter. “Just help,” she said when his forehead creased. “I
promise not to take over.” She moved in next to him, close enough
to smell the almost anise scent of the bruised savory and feel the
hot brush of his hip against hers. “Like this.” She picked up one
of the stems of thyme and ran it through her fingers, stripping it
of its tiny leaves.
    The spicy scent added itself to the mix and
beside her, she felt Spencer inhale.
    “My God, that smells good already.” He
grabbed a stem of thyme and mimicked her movements, but he only
managed to pull off the tip.
    He looked so confused, she laughed and
reached for his hands. “Here, turn it around this way.” She flipped
the stem and showed him how to pull his fingers in the opposite
direction of the way the leaves grew. The pile of tiny leaves grew
on the cutting board. They worked side by side, her stems stripped
completely clean while his held onto about a quarter of their
leaves.
    “Show off,” he said, looking from her pile of
bare stems to his bunch.
    “I’ve had a lot of practice.” She stood on
tiptoe so she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Professional
advantage.”
    Before she could move away, he caught her,
spinning her around so her back pressed against the countertop. He
bent and kissed her, moving her lips apart with his teeth and
tongue, demanding she let him in.
    Her hands fisted in the smooth cotton of his
shirt and he cupped her face with fingers that smelled liked thyme.
She breathed in the heady scent of herbs and the warm rich scent of
man. Melting into him with each teasing, tasting caress, Bailey
pressed her hips into his and felt the evidence of his arousal,
long and hard against her stomach.
    Just as she was ready to tell him to forget
about dinner and take her to bed, he pulled away. She stumbled on
her heels, struggling to catch her breath.
    “Just evening things up,” he said, sounding
breathless himself. “Professional advantage and all.”
    He reached past her for the bottle and she
watched his hand shake as he refilled the wine glasses. She looked
from his hands to his face and back again