Page 16 of Two Canes, One Cup
“Um, I’m not sure. Something warm. That coffee was delicious.” Pink tinges her cheeks.
I squint at her. “Maybe something that carries a little of its own heat? Hot toddy, perhaps? Espresso martini?” Rocking the crystal, I wag my brows encouragingly.
Ah, that caught her attention.
“That sounds lovely.” She glances between Dean and I. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You’re our guest,” Dean clips. “Have a seat and tell us what you love to do in your free time.” He graces her with one of his rare smiles.
Always a director, telling her now what to do.
She folds herself back into the leather chair she occupied earlier, tugging the fleece throw over her knees.
Good girl, she’s getting comfortable.
“Well, when I’m not working? My friend Amy and I love to stay up too late watching movies with a bottle of wine. In the summer,I sometimes go up to Lake Erie and help my brother on his fishing boat.” Her fingers twist the corner of her blanket as she watches us.
“Really? What does he catch?” I bring her drink to her, and give the pot on the stove another stir.
“Perch, mainly. Wait, your water works?” She focuses on balancing the warm cup.
“Your’s doesn’t?” Dean’s voice drops into a concerned tone. “Hmm, I wonder if your pipes are frozen?” His lips flatten into a scowl dishing up the salad.
She tucks a stray lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. “What does that mean?”
When he looks up at her, his features soften. “The good news is, we will get to see a little more of you while they thaw. As long as they don’t burst, you’ll have it back again in a few hours.”
Her mouth makes a perfect circle, reinvigorating my dick.
“Until the power comes back on, it’ll still be cold though.” I point to the teapot near the flames. “Might not hurt to keep some water near your fire.”
“Oh, that’s a really good point. You guys act like you’ve dealt with this before?” She sips on her drink with a look of bliss and lets out a small moan.
I flash Dean a cocky grin.Mybartending skills did that to her.
A muscle under his left eye twitches.
But it stops when he rapidly stirs the vinaigrette before pouring it over the three bowls.
“We lived in a very rural area before moving to the city.” He carries two bowls with silverware, one for her, one for me, before he grabs his from the counter.
She takes another long swallow, then sets her glass down to take the first course. “I think I’ll consider myself very lucky for having you here.”
Dean settles into his chair as we all dig into our lunch. “No, dear.Weare the lucky ones.”
Chapter 9 -Dean
How does she know so much about art history?
And she has no idea how damn sexy she is as she idly compares abstracts with surrealism. Just the very tease of the swell of her thigh escapes the cover of her throw as she waves her hands in an animated story.
But it’s her lips that have me transfixed. The way she bites them when she’s thinking, or purses them when she’s preparing a clever retort.
I imagine she’s the worst poker player in the world as expressive as that…kissable…mouth is.
I’d love to squeeze her cheeks until they pucker, then taste that pink tongue that she tends to poke out while she’s listening.
“Thank you both for lunch.” Her bright blue eyes sparkle as she stands, then she folds her blanket with practiced grace before picking up her dishes.
