“Sure do. The fiddle player’s Rufus, the one on the washboard is Buster and that’s Shorty on the washtub bass.”
“Great names.”
“I didn’t make them up. Those were our stage names when I was with the jug band.”
She turned around, delighted with that tidbit of info. “You were Rufus?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He flipped the sandwiches. “What do you want to drink?”
“Whatcha got, Rufus?”
He chuckled. “Water and beer. And coffee or tea if you want something hot.”
“I just had something hot. I need something to cool me down.”
“How you talk.” Sliding the sandwiches on the plates, he carried them over to the island.
“It’s your fault. Now I have orgasm brain.”
“Join the club.” His gaze swept over her. “There’s nothing sexy about my baggy sweats until you put them on. Then when you move, that soft material manages to perfectly define your?—”
“Something’s burning.”
“Fudge!” Whirling around, he grabbed the soup pan. “Damn it.” He sighed. “How do you feel about blackened tomato soup?”
“Just pour it into the bowls and add a little sugar.”
“Sugar?”
“Trust me, it works.” She spied the sugar canister on the counter. “I’ll do it.”
“And I’ll watch and learn.” He divided the soup between the two bowls and ran water in the scorched pan. It hissed and threw up a cloud of steam. “Good thing it didn’t boil over.”
“Yeah, this is nothing. A tiny glitch.” Picking up a soup spoon, she crossed to the counter and grabbed a teaspoon out of the silverware drawer. “You just add a tiny bit of sugar and then taste-test. If it’s not right, you add a little more.”
“Sounds like you’ve burned soup before.”
“Doesn’t everybody? Mom taught me this ages ago.” She added a quarter teaspoon to each bowl and stirred. “Now we taste.”
“If it’s no good, I have more soup.”
“And throw this away? No, no, no. We don’t waste food around here.” She dipped the soup spoon into one of the bowls, blew on it and then put it in her mouth. “Mm.” She swallowed. “Needs a little more. Do you have any parmesan? That helps, too.” She added a pinch of sugar to each bowl and stirred it in.
“And here I thought this meal would be quick and easy.” He took a can of grated parmesan out of the fridge and set it on the counter.
“No importa.” She glanced at him. “I like a challenge.”
“Lucky me.”
She could get used to those warm looks and cute half-smiles. Dipping up more soup, she offered it to him. “See what you think.”
He held her gaze as she fed him the soup. She hadn’t meant it to be an erotic moment, but suddenly she wanted to kiss him more than she wanted to breathe.
Slowly she pulled the spoon away, her heart pounding. “Well?”
“Delicious.” He grabbed her, his lips hot and demanding as he captured her mouth.
The soup spoon clattered to the floor as she climbed him like a tree, hooking her legs around his hips.
