My cheeks heated, and I didn’t miss how her eyes fell to the blush. I quickly cleared my throat and moved to the fridge, rifling around to grab makings for dinner.
Instead of acknowledging her calling what I didcute, I said, “I also made you a key.”
“For your house?” A hint of surprise laced her tone.
I set the various ingredients beside the stove beforepulling out seasonings for the chicken. “Yes, for the house.”
She moved behind me toward the fridge. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“How do you expect to get in if I’m not home?”
The door to the fridge closed, and the telltale crack of a soda can tab sounded. “I mean, I could have gone and had it made myself.”
I waved her off before spinning around to grab the buffalo sauce from the fridge. Instead of seeing the plain white exterior of my refrigerator, I came face-to-face with Parker. Our eyes held for a moment before I broke the stare.
“I’ll have to buy more of those to feed your habit.”
She cradled the can, smiling. “I’m trying not to have as many with the pregnancy, but I just can’t help myself sometimes. I like a little treat.”
I crossed my arms and leaned a hip against the counter, forgetting the dinner while distracted by her. “And today is celebration enough for a treat, huh?”
Her grin widened as she tucked stray curls behind her ears. “Wyatt is letting me work at the shop.”
“Oncars?” Parker could do an oil change, sure, but she wasn’t very savvy with the rest. At least, she didn’t use to be. I supposed a lot could change in the span of ten years.
A breathless laugh escaped her. “Gosh, no. I’d somehow break them worse than when they came in. He’s letting me do the office stuff.”
Okay, so she wouldn’t have too muchextreme labor to deal with while carrying her baby. That made me feel better. “That was nice of him.”
She took a sip of her soda. “I’d ask where you were when you said you were going to the shop today, but all of this is explanation enough.” Her eyes darted to the items still in disarray.
I shoved off the counter, crossing to the fridge in a second attempt to grab the buffalo sauce. I’d be happy to get nothing done if it meant I could stare at her all night, but that would mean she wouldn’t have dinner, and a starving Parker was not my goal here.
In three strides, I was directly in front of her. She blinked up at me, frozen in place. Only the can of Dr. Pepper separated us, and I nearly wanted to tear it from her grasp and toss it in the sink to get even an inch closer.
It’d take nothing to lower my lips to hers and refresh my tongue with the taste of her. Nothing to set my hands on her waist and feel her. To breathe the same oxygen as her. To back her into the wall and go back to old ways.
But nothing was too much. Nothing held so much weight; it was nearly crushing. It’d take nothing, and yet, it’d change everything.
Her lips parted as she tilted her head back. Was she thinking the same thoughts I was? Imagining being back in my arms? But that was silly to think—no matter how much we dreamed, it never led us to the same place. Our splitting ways for ten years was proof of that.
My body leaned forward the slightest, like she was my center of gravity and I couldn’t resist the pull. Imight’ve imagined it, but her breath seemed to hitch. My eyes caught on her mouth, on her pretty pink lips and that faint freckle right above the corner that I loved so much. One inhale and I could smell her. Vanilla with a hint of almond. I knew that because I’d studied her for so many years that even her scent had been ingrained in my being. I never knew if it came down to her shampoo or the deodorant she used or maybe the perfume she spritzed, but whatever it was, I’d missed it.
And awakening that part of my senses nearly choked me.
“I have to grab the buffalo sauce,” I forced out, my voice pitched so low I barely recognized it.
She blinked out of her haze, seemingly as stuck in the bubble that was us as I was. “Right.”
She took a small step to the side, and I reached around her to open the fridge. Her shoulder brushed my chest, the small kitchen not leaving much room for movement. Every nerve in my body went on red alert, a live wire igniting the skin beneath my shirt.
My hand wrapped around the neck of the glass before pulling the bottle out and shutting the door. When I stepped back, I looked down at her to find her features pinched, like she’d become aware of our point of contact as much as I had.
“What’s for dinner?” Her question was nearly a squeak.
“Buffalo chicken with rice and coleslaw.”
“Oh.”
