She stuffs it her mouth. “Nope.”
“Figured. Bring me one?”
She holds the other one up for me. “Yep.”
We’re at the house within minutes and I roll the cart under the low-roofed carport on the side of the house just as I hear thunder rolling in the distance. “Uh-oh, better hurry before we get that painting wet.”
Ellie and I scramble toward the house, the strong wind tugging at our clothes and hair. We slip inside and shut the door against howls.
A warm, rich scent of lemon and garlic wraps around me, tugging a smile from my lips.
Ellie sets down her painting and kicks off her boots. I follow her to the kitchen. Dallas is in an oil-stained white shirt and jeans. Hair damp, a dishtowel over his shoulder. And for the first time in weeks—he doesn’t lookallthatgrumpy.
“There they are.” Dallas glances over at us from behind the counter. “Dinner in five.” He does a double-take at Ellie. “Hold up. Get over here.”
She giggles as he comes around the counter and lifts her over it. “Are those crumbs on your chin?”
“Maybe.” She chuckles.
He sniffs the corner of her mouth and gasps. “Chocolate chip.” He tickles her tummy and winks. “Go wash up.”
Ellie races to the bathroom but not before tattling. “Willow had one too.”
Dallas tosses the rag down. My stomach flips when he pulls me close and presses his nose to the side of my face with a low growl.
I press my lips together and shake my head. “You can’t prove anything.”
His arms trap me, palms braced on either side of the island. “Oh, I think I can make you open your mouth for me.”
My eyes shimmer with a warning, but I can’t help the smiling, the teasing.
The sizzling of my skin.
“Smells good in here.” I eye the table set for three. Dinner napkins, wine glasses, a colorful salad bowl, garlic bread. “What’s the occasion?”
It’s not his first time cooking dinner while I’m here. But it’s rarely this .?.?. involved. This .?.?. homey. Usually he’d grill something outside or whip up Ellie’s favorite pasta dish.
He shrugs, blue eyes meeting mine like he’s got a secret. “Yeah, well. Suddenly realized, the kitchen’s my favorite place in the house.”
I fight a smirk as heat creeps up my neck.
Ellie steps out and he steps back—but not as quickly as I’d imagined. More like he’s doing it for my benefit.
Like for him .?.?. it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Ellie saw us this close. This .?.?. happy.
The oven beeps and I step around the island to wash my hands while Dallas plates up our dinner. My phone rings and I look at the screen.
Mom.
I ignore it. The clouds grow dark and thunder rolls.
How fitting.
“You can grab that, we’ll wait.”
I shake my head and silence it. “I’ll call her back. Let’s eat.”
As usual, during dinner, we’re fixated on Ellie. But it’s different today. There’s stolen glances, smirks, winks, moments I forget to breathe because of how much I like this. How much Iwantthis.
