I open my mouth to say something clever, something appreciative, something that won’t sound like I’m losing my mind over the sight of her… but all that comes out is, “God, woman.”
Caleb snorts and hangs his hat on the hook. “Ignore him. Food smells amazing, Joelle. Thanks for your hard work.”
We sit, and I swear the first bite knocks a noise out of me I usually only make when I’m fucking. The sandwiches are so stuffed with meat and cheese that I can barely get my mouth around them. The soup’s rich and warm, and it fills our bellies perfectly.
By the time I’m done, I’m almost too full to move.
“Good?” Joelle asks, watching us with that shy brightness that hits me every time.
Caleb wipes his mouth. “Best meal we’ve had since yesterday.”
She laughs, and I make a sound that I hope passes for agreement, because if I talk too much, I’ll end up saying,"Marry me," and that is not the plan. Not yet, at least.
It doesn’t help that she already moves around this place like she’s adapted to the rhythm and tempo of our lives. Like her heartbeat syncs to the creak of the floorboards, the hum of the fridge, and all our desires rolled into one.
She goes to put the soup pot back on the stove, stretching to reach the cabinet, and that small motion hits me in the gut. The curve of her hip in soft jeans is so tempting. The soft sway of her body tells me she’s full again.
Caleb excuses himself to unload the truck, leaving me alone with Joelle, sending me a loaded look as he leaves.
The moment the door closes, she glances over hershoulder, a little nervous but a whole lot needy, and I’m done for.
I move to her, my hands slide to her waist, and she lets out a tiny, surprised breath. I lift her gently onto the butcher-block countertop, settling her on the warm wood with her knees spread enough to bracket my hips.
“You’re full,” I murmur, fingers brushing the side of her breast through her shirt, finding her hard nipple.
She nods, cheeks pink. “A little.”
“I can help.”
Her eyes flutter, and she leans forward, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “You sure you got room?”
“Oh, I’ve got room.” I kiss her softly, unbuttoning her shirt, then lower my mouth to her chest. The relief that shudders through her when I ease the pressure is all I need.
She sighs my name so softly, it could almost be lost, even in the room's silence.
When she’s eased and trembling, I pull back enough to rest my forehead against her sternum. She brushes her fingers through my hair like she’s trying to memorize the moment.
Maybe I am, too.
I kiss the soft skin between her breasts and straighten.
“Jo,” I say quietly.
Her touch pauses. “Yeah?”
I lift my head to look at her, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly knocks me over. She’s trusted me so easily, and I owe her truth in exchange.
“This thing with us…” I start.
She stiffens, like she’s geared up and ready for bad news.
I take her hands before she can fold them into herself. “I’m not stopping it. I’m not asking you to stop it. But Ineed to talk to you about somethin’.”
She swallows. “Okay.”
“About Caleb.”
Her brows lift in surprise, eyes jolting to mine.
