Page 16 of Feels Like Love
He swiveled his hips, and when he spun to face me, he faltered. “Hey.” His sheepish grin was endearing, as was the way the tips of his ears pinkened like River’s often did when he was embarrassed.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Bennett embarrassed. To be honest, I hadn’t believed it was possible until now. He was always so cool and calm. The guy who was laid-back and remained level-headed under pressure. It was probably a big reason why he was such a good veterinarian. He handled both animals and humans with ease.
I grinned, resting my hip against the counter. “Don’t stop on my account.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and then knelt to sweep the debris into the dustpan. His cotton T-shirt stretched and wrapped around his broad shoulders, and my mouth went dry. Holy…wow.
He stood and dumped it in the trash, and I glanced toward the table. It was already set. I blinked a few times.Am I dreaming?
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing.” He smiled and moved to stir the sauce bubbling on the stove. It smelled like garlic and oregano and something else. He took a little taste. Considered it as he smacked his lips. Then added some more spices.
“Seriously. What can I do?”
“There is one thing.” He crossed the kitchen with a spoon filled with sauce, his hand cupped beneath it to catch any spills. “You can taste this for me.”
I lifted my hand as if to take the spoon from him, but he merely shook his head. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I tucked them behind my back, gripping the edge of the counter as if it would stabilize me.
“Open.” His tone was gentle, but there was grit to it as well. Coaxing while commanding.
I parted my lips, and he seemed intent on my mouth. Tracking my every move. My skin heated, my thin shirt suddenly hot and heavy like a flannel blanket on a warm summer’s day.
He slid the spoon between my lips. Everything about it felt so erotic. Like what we were doing was somehow more than tasting a sauce. Something forbidden, even. And despite that realization, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I didn’t want to.
The air between us crackled with electricity, my cells thrumming pleasantly from his proximity. And then I closed my lips around the spoon, and the minute the sauce hit my taste buds, I hummed with pleasure. My eyes closed of their own accord as I savored the robust flavors dancing in my mouth. The tomatoes bursting with ripeness, the salty tang, the bite of the garlic, and then…beneath it all, something sweet.
When I opened my eyes, Bennett was watching me with a funny look on his face. I couldn’t decipher what it meant. And before I could even attempt to dissect it, it was gone.
“Ohmygod,” I said around the spoon and then laughed, all but drooling on myself.
Bennett laughed and pulled back, while I grabbed a towel and dabbed at a spot on my shirt. He stared at that spot, surely thinking I was a freak. When he returned to the stove, I couldn’t see his expression, but I wondered if he was feeling as off-kilter as I was.
“That was delicious. Where’d you learn to cook like that?”
“My grandma.” He softened, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She was an amazing cook.”
I nodded. “I remember. She was the sweetest lady.”
“Maybe to you.” He laughed.
I gave him a pointed look. “Maybe because I wasn’t getting myself into all sorts of trouble.”
“Who, me?” His voice pitched higher as he attempted an innocent expression.
“Yes. You,” I teased. “You and my brother, Tristan, and Asher.” I laughed just remembering some of their antics.
He leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I always knew when I was in her good graces because she’d make me ragamuffins.”
I smiled, seeing the younger version of Bennett in his face. When he spoke about his grandma with such devotion, I saw the boy I’d known. And then I’d look at him and remember the man he’d become. A man who was sexy and good with River and completely off-limits. Not that he’d ever be interested in me.
“What are ragamuffins?” I asked.
“You take the scraps from leftover biscuit dough and flatten them out. Then dust the dough with cinnamon and sugar and roll them up so they look like a swirl.”
“Um. Those sound freaking delicious.”
He smiled. “I haven’t made them in years, but I think I’d still remember how to do it.”
