“Junior high making out. Arms wrapped around each other. Mouths open, but very little tongue.”
“A little better, but not really interested in that.” He bit her earlobe before switching to the other side of her neck.
She closed her eyes and a small shudder passed through her.
“What’s the pinnacle definition of making out?” he asked.
This was fun. She enjoyed teasing him and the way he teased her back, not holding a grudge from earlier. “Well, I’d have to say the ultimate definition of making out would be strangers in a dark hallway.”
He lifted his head from her neck. A sexy smile spread across his face at her reminder of the night they met. “Yeah. I think that one is my favorite.”
He cupped her head and kissed her. Hot. Open-mouthed. Tongues intertwining. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Everything but his warm body enveloping hers faded from her mind. The heady scent of his skin. The desire racing through her as she clung to him. She slowly came to her senses when he ended the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I think we need to go back to the middle school definition, or I’m going to put you up on the counter and Denise can get bent.”
She threw her head back and laughed.
He dropped his head into the crook of her neck. “I love that sound.”
She leaned back. “Let me get dinner started. You want something to drink?”
“Sure. Is that iced tea in the pitcher?”
“Sure is.” She moved out of his arms and put ice in the glass he’d pulled out earlier.
“Did you have a coming out?” He leaned his hips against the sink, hands beside his hips. His t-shirt strained across his chest.
“A what?” Her brows met in the middle of her forehead.
“You know. Did you come out? As a debutant?”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “Uh, no. Why on earth would you ask that?”
“Because your grandmother is Vivienne Coffee.”
“Ah. Gotcha.” She poured tea into the glass. “No, I was not a debutant. I did not have a coming out. The summer I turned sixteen, my grandparents took me on a cross-country road trip to Yellowstone. In an RV. For three weeks.”
“Not a fun trip, I take it.”
She shrugged. “Now that I’m an adult, I realize it was great experience. I’d love to do it again. But I wish I could slap my sixteen-year-old self for not appreciating it more while it was happening.”
“But you were still a Coffee.”
“No. I’m a Marks.” She returned the pitcher to the fridge. “Gran didn’t becomeVivienne Coffee—” she hooked her fingers twice “—until my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. The hospital here wasn’t equipped to treat him, and they were advised to go up to Raleigh.” He took the glass she held out. “She didn’t want to do that. She wanted them to be here, at home, with family and friends. They could afford in-home hospice care, but it bothered her that other families didn’t have that option. So she donated money to the hospital on the stipulation that it be used to build a new cancer treatment center.”
She poured another glass of tea and returned the pitcher to the fridge. “Her reputation for philanthropy grew from there. Before my grandfather got sick, they donated money anonymously. Gran wanted the new center named after my grandfather.”
“How come you never mentioned it?”
She signed and leaned against the counter across from him. “People already look at me funny when they find out I have money, which is why I don’t tell a lot of people. When they find out my grandmother is Vivienne Coffee, their entire attitude changes. They either think I’m some stuck-up rich girl and treat me like shit, or they start sucking up to me for who they think I might have connections to. To me she’s just Gran, so I don’t tell anyone.”
He set his tea down and pulled her into a hug. “I already told you I don’t want your money. I was surprised when Tim said her name, that’s all.”
“Thank you.” She tucked her face into his neck. Little by little, her muscles relaxed, and tension eased out of her. Her eyes stung and she swallowed hard. The emotions she’d held pent up crashed, threatening to overwhelm her. It’d been so long since someone held her for no other reason than to just hold her.
They stood that way for several minutes, arms wrapped around each other, until Jase’s stomach rumbled. “You said something about dinner, right?”
Bree chuckled. “Yes. Is chicken okay?”
