“You made me maple cake?”
“Yeah.”
Tears prick my eyes. This man. This fucking man. How the hell could I ever resist him? “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. It’s right up there with the gazebo and my eighteenth birthday.”
We stare longingly at one another, and my heart is soaring.
“So, maple cake?” His eyes drift to my mouth.
“Yes.” It only seems fitting that I try it again for the first time in years with him.
We settle back in our seats, and Callan feeds the first bite to me with his arm curled around my shoulders.
I moan the second it hits my tongue, and the moist, rustic sweetness reminds me why it was always my favorite.
“And the verdict is?” His deep tone has me squeezing my thighs together as lust spirals in my lower belly.
“You still make magic with your hands.”
“Astrid.” He puts the fork down and holds my face. “I can’t hold this in any longer. You can take all the time, all the space you need, but you have to know how much I love you. I never stopped loving you. It has been and will always be you.”
I don’t know who moves first, but our lips collide in a passionate kiss fueled by years of heartache and longing. I grasp the nape of his neck when he pulls me in closer, deepening our kiss as he tugs the hair tie out of my hair and runs his fingers through the strands. Angling my head, I open my mouth, and his tongue slips inside. We dance a familiar dance, and our kissing is growing more frenzied by the second.
I crawl into his lap and straddle his hips, moaning into his mouth when he grabs my ass and squeezes. My hips roll, grinding against the bulge in his shorts, and my nipples are trying to poke holes through my dress. Sun beats down on my skin, pairing with the fire burning inside me until I’moverheating and wanting to rip my clothes off and feel no barrier between us.
“Baby.” Callan pants, holding my face in his palms and staring at me with dilated pupils. His lips are swollen from my kisses, and his hair is messed up from the wind and my fingers. “We should stop before we take it too far.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I roll my hips, gyrating on his erection, to drill my point home.
“I don’t want to rush you.”
“You’re not, and this feels a lot like déjà vu.”
His laugh does amazing things to my insides. “Can’t disagree.”
“Take me home and make love to me, Callan. I’ve waited years to feel you moving inside me again.”
“If we do this, there’s no turning back, Astrid. I can’t…” He clears his throat, resting his large palm on my chest, just over my heart. “I can’t have you and not have you be mine.”
“I’m yours, Callan. I’ve always been yours. I never stopped loving you either.”
74
ASTRID
“Your place or mine?” Callan asks as we race toward his house.
“Would mine be okay?”
“Of course.” He pulls me to a stop, pushing me up against a tree. “Just so you know, the only female who has slept in my bed is my daughter.”
“How did you know I was thinking that?”
“I know you, beautiful.” He leans in, caging me between his arms, and kisses me.
I groan as fresh need dampens my panties and hardens my nipples. “Changed my mind,” I purr against his lips. “Your bed. It’s closer.”
I squeal when Callan throws me over his shoulder and takes off running for the door. “You’re crazy,” I say in between laughing.
