Cade returned to the house, and Loopy blasted by to greet him as if he’d been gone for a month.She shook her head, rubbed against him, barked.It was amazing he could keep his balance.
“What a good girl,” he told her.
Sofia watched him remove his hat and shake it off before slamming the door closed.
With Cade in the house, the respite from her thoughts vanished.She was once again the woman who’d felt his paddle and been held against his chest.
“Hellish storm,” he said.
“The weatherman’s version of twenty-percent chance of rain.”Because of the unanswered questions between them, normal conversation seemed inane.
He tossed his hat onto the bench then plowed a hand through his damp hair, dislodging a single, mesmerizing lock.She continued to watch as he shucked water from his shirt.
For a short time she’d lived with a man, but she’d never stood, riveted, and watched him undress.To be fair, he’d been nothing like Cade.This cowboy exuded confidence and masculinity.Especially after what they’d shared, he was a force as menacing as nature herself.
Cade wiped the bottom of his boots on a mat then started to unsnap the pearl buttons on his shirt.
He wore a white T-shirt beneath, and she wasn’t sure whether or not she was disappointed.
The kettle gave a soft whistle and she moved toward the stove before she got caught, again, staring at him.He really did muddle her thought processes.It wasn’t just him, though.It was her and the aftershocks still zipping through her.
She moved the kettle to the back burner and turned off the flame.
Concentrating on what she was doing, Sofia plonked teabags into the pot and filled it with the hot water.She was just putting on the lid when he joined her in the kitchen.
It shouldn’t have been possible, but he was even broader, more devastating in the white T-shirt and well-worn jeans.
Her voice was a tad higher than usual when she asked, “Do you have whiskey?”
“A case of it, at least.”
“I didn’t see any in the pantry.”
He blanched.“Whiskey doesn’t belong in the pantry.”
“Are you serious?”
“There’s some in my study.I’ll get it.”
He returned in less than three minutes and handed the whiskey to her.
“That’s a gorgeously shaped bottle.”
“Connor left it here.It was a gift from Julien.”
“Now I’m really impressed.Not only does he show up to the reception, but he sends this kind of gift?”
“And damn good stuff,” he replied.
Focusing on anything but his hands as he removed the cap, she grabbed a cutting board from behind the sink and pulled a knife from the nearby block.
He put the bottle down near her.Rather than moving away, he propped his hips against one of the marble countertops and swept his gaze over her in a way that reminded her of the loft and heated her from the outside in.
She forced herself to concentrate on slicing the lemon, aware of the way he watched her every movement.Trying to make small talk to dispel the unaccountable tension crawling through her, she pretended nothing was unusual by saying, “When someone tells me to make myself at home in a kitchen, I’m afraid I can’t help it.”
“I like to see someone get some use out of it.All I need is the grill and a beer.”
Why did that not surprise her?
