Page 32 of After 5

“You missed me, too.” I unhooked my legs from his waist. Leaning against him, wrapped in his arms, and pleased to feel his hardness pressed against my thigh, I ran my hand down to encourage.

“Jen, seriously.” He pulled away from me, turned and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, finally admitting, “I’m starving, have ye got any food?”

OK, not like Caiyan at all, putting food before sex.

“I havenae had a bite all day.”

I eyed him. The Caiyan I knew never postponed naked for Newtons. “Uhm, I’m…not sure. Gertie didn’t do the grocery shopping while I was…away.” I turned, and he followed me downstairs.

He leaned against the counter and watched me ramble through the pantry. I surfaced with a box of macaroni and cheese.

“Sorry, it’s all I’ve got. We could order out?”

“’Tis fine,” he said.

I put a pot on to boil, but my instincts told me he had something on his mind. If I waited, maybe he would tell me why he was acting all kinds of strange. I opened the fridge and offered him one of Brodie’s beers.

He opened it and took a long pull from the bottle. The way he looked at me through heavy-lidded eyes made me wonder why we were down here in the kitchen instead of upstairs satisfying my extreme urges.

My mind churned with reasons why he hesitated after so many months apart. I absentmindedly pulled the whipped cream can from the fridge and upended it into my mouth. I heard him mumble, “Shite!”

When I glanced over at him, his lips parted slightly as he watched me lower the can and swallow the mouthful of white cream.

He had me naked on the kitchen table faster than I could recap the can. He retrieved the whipped cream can from the floor where I had dropped it and sprayed a happy trail from my belly button down to my boy howdy. Much to my satisfaction, he proceeded to have a Jen sundae. When we came up for air, the can of whipped cream was empty, and the pot had boiled dry.

He ran a finger down my cheek. “I thought aboot ye often, Sunshine.”

“Me too. I mean, I thought about you, too.” I gathered my clothes and turned off the stove.

He beckoned me with his index finger to follow him upstairs to shower. I smiled. The old Caiyan had returned. We were back, the old us. My hunger satisfied by a can of Reddi-wip.

After a hot shower, more kisses, and more everything else, we headed back downstairs for real food. I made the mac and cheese and we stayed in the kitchen leaning against the kitchen cabinets, the table covered with the aftermath of whipped cream and love.

Caiyan wore his jeans low on his hips, his muscled torso covered by the soft cotton t-shirt. Curls of his hair, jet black from the wet of the shower, framed his face.

“Where have you been traveling?” I asked. With my guilty pleasure satisfied, I wanted answers.

“I cannae tell you.” He placed his bowl in the sink and rinsed it out. “Yer in danger jest by me being here.”

“How can I help you, if you don’t confide in me?” I rinsed out my bowl and placed it on the countertop next to the dishes. Frustrated with his secrecy, I turned and caught him staring at me. I stifled a yawn. The cold medicine was kicking in, delayed by the adrenalin rush sparked by our sexcapades. I wanted to go upstairs, snuggle together under my down comforter, and fall asleep satisfied in his arms.

“Jen, I have to gain the Mafusos’ trust in order to get my key back.”

“But you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on? What if they leave you stranded in another time? I could find you, if you would quit being a bullheaded ass and talk to me.”

“Jen—” He stopped and raked a hand through his hair. The mussy, dark hair made my lower half tingle. I wanted to kiss the scar that cut through his top upper lip. I ignored the want and waited for answers.

He stared at me.

“Jake thinks the reason you’re helping the Mafusos has something to do with the sword you swiped from the Appomattox museum.”

“I dinnae steal it, I borrowed it. Besides, it belonged to a friend of mine.” His eyes grew sad with the last words he spoke.

“You mean Mr. Raney?”

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