“Good. If you’re that hungry, you might not notice it’s not as good.” She laughs and goes to get us two cups of coffee.
“It’s good,” I reply before even trying it. “You made it,” I add for some incomprehensible reason. “So it’s good.”
Even though I’m hungry and ready to devour this meal along with the plate itself, I can’t bring myself to touch the food right away. I’m too busy watching two tiny pink spots appear on the globes of her cheeks. Her face stretches with a smile as she hides behind her cup.
Once I start eating, I inhale the food before I can even blink—it’s good. Really good. And she made it.
After checking the clock on the wall, I see that it’s time for me to go. Even if I want to stay. But her day will get busy soon, and so will mine.
I stand up and reach for my wallet, ready to settle the breakfast so I’m not in Nora’s debt. Her sharp smack against the counter halts me, reverberating through my bones.
“Put that thing away before I shove it up your… nose.” Her defiance is so sudden, so animated, that I can’t help but parrot it back.
“Nose?” She can’t be serious, but from the fierce look on her face, she is.
“Nose,” she repeats. Emphasizes. The fierce look intensifies as she folds her arms across her chest, taking a stance like she’s daring me to challenge her.
I want to challenge her. Just because I like this flushed look on her face.
“What about payment?” Just asking raises the temperature in the room, and my own stubbornness kicks in. I should leave it alone, but I don’t.
Her eyes squint, giving me the distinct impression that I’m stepping onto a minefield. And I’m loving it. Does she get this fierce everywhere?
“You already paid. By cleaning my driveway,” she clarifies with a sharp tone. “I owe you now.” We’re holding a stare-off, and her insistence throws me off more than I want to admit.
“I like paying it forward.” This is true, and it’s practical, but I’m already sensing the shift in her mood. I know this is about more than breakfast.
Her eyes narrow even further, turning into little slits of suspicion. That precipice I was on? I’m now fully over it. And yet, I don’t know how. “Do you? Paying or playing?”
Ah. There it is. The misstep I made is now glaring at me in bold neon colors.
“Paying, Nora. I don’t play.” I say it firmly, knowing full well that this isn’t enough for her. So I add, on impulse, “Actually, I do. But different games.” I’m expecting that to lighten the moment, show a bit of humor, maybe diffuse what’s brewing between us. But I can see instantly, in the hardening of her jaw, that I’ve only fueled her fire.
“I bet you do.” Her lips turn white around the edges, pressed together in accusation. How the hell did we get here? Not fifteen minutes ago, she was laughing, and I was feeling something goddamn close to joy. Now it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room.
She’s saying nonsense just for the sake of the fight, and another guy would probably just walk away. But I take a pause to look at her. Really look at her.
And when I do, I see that she’s hurt. By the things she thinks she saw, and I just keep playing into it. I don’t want to see her hurt. That game is not fun anymore.
So I decide for the both of us to move on from the situation. I step closer to the counter and lean toward her.
“Nora?” I say, and it’s not a question. It’s a decision.
She lets out a breath and instinctively leans forward, exactly what I’m hoping for. Her eyes flash, like she knows something’s about to happen, but she won’t let herself believe it. That’s all I need. My hand shoots up and grabs her chin, quickly sliding to her neck. She’s tiny against me; my rough palm is fuckin’ giant, and it holds her neck and her chin—and her attention. Her cheeks are pink like cherry blossoms, and when her mouth falls open in shock, her eyes wide and waiting, I know my timing is spot on.
Slightly pulling her toward me, I lean even closer to her face and cover her lips with mine. Not gentle. Not savoring. My tongue quickly enters her mouth, meeting hers and doing a rough swap. She tastes like peppermint and sugar. She tastes like Christmas morning. And fuck, how I want to unwrap that present.
I hear her breath hitch, feel her body melt, and all I can think is that it’s about fuckin’ time I made a move. The way she kisses me back, the way her tongue fights with mine, her lips soft and hungry—it drives me insane and makes me want more. The kiss lasts maybe three seconds, if that. Three seconds that shift the whole universe, then I pull away from her lips but not from her face.
Still holding her neck, I find her eyes and look into them as I speak.
“We’ll talk about it later, Little Witch.”
I place another quick kiss on her lips before I pull awayand grab my jacket. I walk away, not letting her see how much my hands are shaking. When I reach the door, I turn and watch her standing there. Jaw dropped. Her hands frozen over the counter. Her cheeks pink and her expression fucking priceless.
I haven’t seen her so speechless before, and I’m glad it was me who made her that way. By the end of tonight, I sure as fuck hope that this woman’s thighs will be wrapped around my face.
26
