“If you need to answer that, I don’t mind,” I told him.
“Come here,” he said, rounding the island and lifting me to stand. Instead of mentioning anything about the phone, he cupped my face and devoured my lips.
The kiss nearly washed away all of my trepidations and worries. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted on my tiptoes, needing more of him. I spent weeks missing this feeling, and I wanted to soak it all in even if it might not last long-term.
“Baby, if you keep kissing me like that, you’ll never get to have your dinner,” Brutus said against my lips.
Both of us panted from the kiss.
I briefly closed my eyes and swallowed. “You’re right.” Taking a step back, I reminded myself to calm my runaway emotions.
When I looked back up at Brutus he was frowning.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, a wrinkle on his forehead. “I wasn’t putting a stop button on anything. I want to devour you whole, but I need to make sure you’re fed first.”
I sat back on the stool and turned away from him, again wringing my hands. I wasn’t typically a shy or uncertain person, but these feelings I had for him had me feeling all off kilter.
“Look at me,” Brutus said. But before he could continue, his phone buzzed again.
“You need to get that,” I told him.
“It’s fine.” He never took his gaze off of me. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head before answering. “I just … what if we’re rushing things?”
“Rushing?” he repeated as if it were a foreign word. “Rushing would’ve been me carrying my ass down to Colombia to bring you back home with me, kicking and screaming.”
I let out an unintentional laugh. “You wouldn’t have done that.”
He gave me a stern look. “I had half a mind. The only thing that kept me from going crazy was how busy I was with work.”
“Speaking of …” I trailed off and peered at his phone again.
“It’s nothing.” He stepped closer and pulled me, stool and all, closer to him. He dipped his head, diving in for another kiss. The idea of denying him or turning my head away didn’t even come to mind. I guessed we’d have to table that conversation for another time.
Brutus slid his hand down my back and underneath the blouse I wore. Warmth spread through my belly at the feel of his fingers brushing against my skin.
“It smells good in here. What are you cooking?” a gruff, male voice interrupted.
Brutus whipped his head around. “Dad, what the hell?” he growled.
I stood and peeked around Brutus.
His father was instantly recognizable from the few video calls we’d exchanged while in Mexico. Brutus got his height and his build from his father.
“Mr. Kennedy,” I greeted with my hand extended. “Nice to meet you in person.”
Rick Kennedy frowned. “What the hell is with the Mr. Kennedy bullshit?” He grunted. “Come here, gal.”
I gasped in surprise when he pulled me in for a hug. Then I laughed.
“I knew you would be back in town before those two months were up,” he said. He turned and slapped Brutus on his shoulder. “I told you she couldn’t stay away from ya.”
Brutus’ annoyed expression didn’t let up. “Why are you here?” His voice was low but full of contempt.
“What the hell do you mean what am I doing in here? I live here,” Rick said, looking appalled Brutus would even ask.
“You live in the guesthouse on the other end of my property.”
