I’m worried the next words out of my mouth will be an invitation to see my loft—my bed being the main attraction of the tour—so I shake these dirty thoughts away and turn back to my new wall and fresh ceiling.
“It looks great,” I say. “I can’t believe we got most of it done.”
“At least, that raccoon won’t be joining you tonight,” he says.
I shoot him a smirk. “Are you jealous of Ronnie?”
“Maybe,” he says, smiling back. “But I have something that raccoon doesn’t…”
“A human body?”
He grins. “A date. With you. Tonight. Remember?”
I swallow hard as I nod. “How could I forget? You practically begged me for it.”
He chuckles. “I’ll beg, I’ll plead, I’ll do anything to have a chance with you.”
My cheeks blush and I have to turn away so he can’t see how big my smile is.
“Any place in particular you’d like to go?” he asks.
“Honestly,” I say with a heavy breath. “I’m just so happy my place is back to normal. I’d love to enjoy it for a little bit. Takeout sounds incredible.”
“Takeout it is.”
“Is that okay?”
“I just want to be with you, June,” he says, stepping up close. I suck in a breath and hold it when I feel those warm protective hands on my hips. His fingers slide into my belt loops and he pulls me closer.
My eyes drop to his sexy mouth. I want to kiss him again. I’ve wanted it all day. I didn’t want to stop on the rooftop. It felt too good.
He hovers his mouth over mine and lets out a hungry little groan. His warm breath tickles my lips and I almost explode with desire.
I can’t take it anymore.
Ineedhim.
I grab the back of his neck, step on my toes, and crush my lips to his.
Heat pulses between my legs. My whole body comes alive.
Ilovekissing this man.
I’ve loved my life the past few years, but it’s so obvious now.Thisis what I’ve been missing. I thought I had it all, but now that the veil is lifted from my eyes, I know there’s no going back.
I need Ethan. Ineedthis man.
We order Greek food and end up eating at the table, having an amazing time. I laugh until my ribs hurt at all of the fun and crazy firehouse stories he tells me. Most of them involve Doug doing something stupid.
I can’t take my eyes off him. I hang on his every word.
And he hangs on every word I say too.
Even when I go into too much detail about glazing techniques or the pros and cons of various types of clay. He listens like every word matters, asks questions, and leans in like he can listen to me talking forever.
I give him props for that. Most people’s eyes would have glazed over and they would have checked out a long time ago when I got started on Tatara-zukuri, a slab-building technique I learned in Japan.
At one point, he wipes sauce off the corner of my mouth with his thumb. The touch is tender and sweet, but my entire body stirs up, reacting like it’s just been injected with arousal.
