She bobs her head as she slices bread. “Thankfully, yes. She’s in remission, and her health is good.”
We continue chatting about everything and anything as she places the garlic bread in the oven and sets the small table in the corner. We quickly finish our beers, and she grabs the now chilled wine from the fridge, inspecting the label.
“It’s one of our best bottles,” I explain. “Ellen said you preferred white to red and that pinot gris or sauvignon blanc were your favorites.”
“They are, but I tend to drink New Zealand wines if I want a sauvignon.” She walks toward a cupboard and removes two wineglasses. “I thought most Seattle wineries produced chardonnay or riesling?”
“They account for eighty percent of white wine production in Washington, but other variations are becoming popular. We produce a wide variety, but Dad is focusing heavily on new-world wines because he believes they will become just as popular. Our sauvignon is more like a full-bodied French wine than a crisp Marlborough, but I think you’ll like it.”
“It smells delicious,” she says while pouring wine into both our glasses. “And you clearly know your stuff.”
“Thanks,” I say, accepting the glass. “I wish I did, but the truth is, I know very little about the winery side of the business. Something I hope to rectify this summer.”
“You’re going to be in Seattle over summer break?”
I nod, savoring the citrusy apple-scented flavor of the cold white wine as it fills my mouth and glides down my throat. “I have worked at the lumberyard every summer for years. This year, I’ll be alternating my weeks between the yard and the winery. What about you? What are your plans?”
“I’m heading back to Ravenna. I help Nana out with the business every summer.”
“We have that in common too.” I can’t help mentioning it as I like to reinforce our similarities in the hope it’ll shatter her belief our interests aren’t aligned.
“I guess we do,” she says with a shrug, and I wonder if I might possibly be getting through to her.
Dinner is sumptuous, and I have second helpings and clear my plate. After, we top off our wine and head into the living room to watch a movie. There is still no sign of Ellen and Will.
Not that I’m complaining.
I’m enjoying having Stevie all to myself.
We have the lights turned off so the only illumination in the room is from the TV screen. I couldn’t tell you what movie we agreed on or what we’re watching because I’m highly attuned to the woman sitting close to my side, and I can’t focus on anything but her.
Tension slithers into the air, but it’s the good kind. Sparks crackle around us, and I’m conscious of every little puff of air that slips out of her mouth and how her tongue darts out, tracing a line back and forth across her full lips. I track the way her chest heaves up and down, how her fingers dig into the side of her thigh, and every movement of her long shapely legs as she crosses and uncrosses them.
I’m wound tight, afraid to move a muscle in case I lose hold of my tenuous control, grab the back of her neck, and pull her mouth to mine like I’m dying to do. When I can’t take it any longer, I turn my head and blatantly stare at her as I inch a little closer on the couch. Our thighs brush, and she sucks in a subtle gasp, letting me know I’m not in this alone.
Warmth seeps through my clothes and skin, embedding deep. My cock stirs, eager for action, and there is no talking myself down this time. Deliberately, I hook my pinky in hers, willing her to turn and meet my obsessive gaze.
I know she knows I’m looking at her.
Her pulse jumps in her neck, and I can almost hear her heart thumping wildly against her rib cage. Blood rushes all over my body, and my heart pounds in my chest as butterflies swoop into my stomach, turning somersaults and cartwheels as I unwind her tense fingers and link them with mine.
Slowly, she turns toward me, and time seems to stand still. I stop breathing. My pulse thrums in my ears, and my heart beats out of control as our gazes lock and hold tight. Liquid heat radiates from her eyes as they drift to my mouth. I wet my lips and stare at her mouth, dying to taste her and understanding there will be no going back if I do. My cock is rock hard, straining against my jeans and leaking precum behind my boxers.
I am painfully attracted to Stevie, and not kissing her, not touching her, is the worst form of torture.
But I gave her my word, and I’m already testing it.
I can’t be the one to push us over the edge.
She has to give me a sign or meet me halfway.
We continue staring at one another as the movie plays in the background and electricity hums in the air. She gulps, twisting her body ever so slightly as our eyes connect again. My heart is beating so fast I fear it’ll beat right out of my chest. Her lips part, her chest rises, and I spot the moment she makes her decision.
Stevie grabs my shirt, ready to pull me toward her, when the front door swings open, slamming noisily against the wall as Will and Ellen crash into the apartment and ruin the moment.
ChapterFourteen
Stevie
