“Wow. I didn’t see him move,” Mitch said.
Deacon teased, “Probably because you’ve been busy staring at Becca.”
“No kidding.” Nora took Deacon by the arm, which must have surprised him, because he seemed to tense. “Come on, love of my life. Let’s find the kid before he hamstrings himself with a free weight.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, but okay.” Deacon walked away with Nora, leaving Becca to face Mitch.
“Forgive my brother. He has a big mouth.”
“So does Nora.”
He nodded. She nodded.
They stared at each other in silence.
“Can I show you something?” he asked after a moment.
“Not your etchings.”
He grinned, and a dimple peeked at her. “Not yet. I was saving that for later.”
She tucked some loose hair behind her ear, nervous. “Okay.”
He led her to a room off the pool, a small conservatory filled with blooms. The twenty-by-twenty foot room had been encased in thick glass, stonework, and drywall where it joined the main house. Sleet filmed the glass roof and outer walls. But the many pots of flowers boasted rich black dirt and overflowed with colorful flowers of all kinds.
In the middle of the room, a tan couch, standing overhead lamp, and coffee table sat atop a patterned area rug. On the coffee table, someone had been reading about the Civil War. It was a perfect area to indulge in a good book, surrounded by green and growing things.
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah. This is way cool. Unfortunately, I don’t know a lot about flowers. I guess I can learn though, right?”
She stared at a nearby wealth of sweet-smelling red roses and inhaled. Closing her eyes, she took in the scent of past summer and earth and sighed. “This is amazing.”
When she opened her eyes, Mitch stood close. She had to look up to meet his gaze.
“Can I tell you something?”
She nodded, unable to speak, her heart thundering.
“I’ve pictured you here, in front of me. And then I’ve imagined doing this.”He leaned down slowly, giving her all the time in the world to move.
But frozen in place, she could do no more than reach up to urge him closer.
She brushed the hair on the back of his neck and drew him down to her, pleased at his swift intake of breath.
Then his lips met hers, and sensation bombarded her.
Mitch started out gentle, exploring, and let her lead. She moved her hands from his neck to his broad shoulders and felt his hands at her waist.
The kiss changed, and her entire body went boneless. Her legs grew rubbery, her breasts aching, and the place between her legs seemed to take on a hunger all its own.
So turned on she feared she’d combust, she wanted to pull back but found herself clutching him tighter. His chest brushed hers, and she gasped into his mouth.
And that’s when Mitch took over.
His tongue slid inside her mouth, darting deeper to stroke hers. He moaned, or she moaned, and then the kiss became a ravaging need to—
“Mom!”
