Wasting no time, Carli slipped on her boots, coat, and hat, then picked up her purse. A sharp screech sounded in her ear. She shut her CIs off and tucked them in her purse.
“Sorry. Batteries are dead again.”
Blake grinned at her. “I don’t mind. I like you staring at my mouth.”
Heat crept into her cheeks, and she pulled away. Barbara seemed way too interested in what they were doing.
On the way back, they stopped at the soup shop and grabbed some to go. Luckily, many people in Boston walked, which meant a good deal of the stores and restaurants were still open.
The management had kept up with snowblowing the entryway and sidewalks around Blake’s building, but the piles were enormous. As they climbed the stairs, Carli ran her hand over the pile next to her and snatched a handful. A little devil sat on her shoulder, nudging her to throw it at Blake.
She listened.Whop!
Blake spun around, his eyes wide, his mouth open. “You little…”
She couldn’t figure out what he’d called her but knew enough to run away. Unfortunately, he was faster and seized her by the hips. They both fell into the nearest snowbank. It had to be almost four feet tall. And freezing.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She laughed.
“I don’t think you are.” He laughed, too. “There will be a punishment for that.” His head lowered to press his lips against hers. Every time he did this, kissed her, her senses spun out of control. His soft lips teased her, pausing, then starting again, making her want more and more. When he eased back, she was breathless.
“I like your punishments. You should punish me more often.”
“Then, you’ll have to be bad more often.”
“You might need to define ‘bad’ for me.”
“Inside, where it’s warmer.”
No sense arguing there. She’d been cold enough the last few days, making the trek back and forth to the hospital.
After dumping their stuff in the hallway, Carli asked, “Do you mind if I change into those sweats and flannel now? I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep in my soup and then I’ll be uncomfortable. There is a nap calling my name, and I don’t plan to ignore it.”
“Go.” He waved her off. “I’ll get the soup on the table.”
By the time she came back, he had bowls and spoons ready to go. The gas stove in the living room fireplace was also on. Great ambiance.
She peered into his bowl. “What kind did you get? I couldn’t hear what you asked for.”
“Chicken Tortilla. That’s why it comes with nacho chips.” He held up the small container of chips.
“That sounds really good. But I love this Meatball Macaroni, too.”
“That’s one of my favorites.”
After taking a few bites of her soup, she glanced back over at Blake’s soup, licking her lips.
“Did you want to try some?”
“Am I that obvious?” Her eyes focused on bowl.
“A little. Here.” He offered up his bowl, and she dipped her spoon into the creamy mixture.
“Yum.”
“It’s even better if you scoop it up with the chips. Try some.”
“Now, I feel guilty. I’m eating all your soup.”
