“What?”
“Youlikedit.”
I’m not going to have this conversation with him, of all people. “To be determined.” I clear my throat. “We need to add the essential oil to each pot.”
“Or,” he says, rolling the ladle between his fingers, cooling the wax on the surface, “we could test my theory.” The challenging hint in his voice is unmistakable.
That weight in my chest dares me forward. I place my arm on the cool counter, palm up, waiting for his next move. “Go ahead.”
This could turn out to be a terrible experiment. Curiosity, however, is a stronger force than self-preservation. I want to trust him with something real. To see if he still knows how to handle it.
“Hm.” His fingertips skim mine, sliding down my palm and wrist, gently pressing my skin until he reaches the crook of my elbow. “Tell me if it’s uncomfortable or too hot.”
His touch is careful. This is new for him, too. Being vulnerable with a piece of ourselves feels so natural in this moment. It was this easy when we were together.
“I trust you not to scar me,” I joke, but my voice barely rises above a whisper to cut through the tension. This is supposed to be a game, I remind myself. Nothing more.
Adam looks away, but I catch a glimpse of an anguish I can’t read. He hovers the ladle over the pot and slowly brings it over my palm. The first drops hit my fingertips, and it’s like something is scratching my brain in a spot I didn’t know it needed. I bite my lip over the surprise noise trying to escape.
Heat seeps under my skin.
Adam gauges my reaction and tilts the ladle again over the middle of my palm. Drop by drop, moving over the trail he had caressed earlier. The heat of the wax is nothing compared to the fire swelling low in my belly. Each drop makes my core pulse, and I can’t mask the soft moan drifting between us in the hushed kitchen.
His throat works, fingers flexing on the handle. He doesn’t say anything, a muscle popping in his jaw as he dips the ladle in the pot again, cooling it with slow rolls before tilting it over my arm once more.
When the last drop falls, I’m trembling.
In the charged silence, dark green eyes linger, sliding from my arm up my neck, over my face, before resting heavily on my lips.
He takes my hand and begins to slowly peel off the hardened wax while I look at him in a daze. “That was enlightening.”
Grasping for a shred of self-control, I start to yank my hand back. “I can clean it myself.”
With a steady clasp, he keeps hold of my wrist, lips twitching. “But I made this mess all over your hand. I’ll take care of it.”
His thumb presses under the brittle wax, peeling it with maddening care. Each scrape bringing me closer to the edge.
We’re locked in with each other, both breathing too hard. He looks ready to take the scoop and continue to use the wax all over me. My body wants every dangerous thing he wants to offer, but I can’t let such insanity fly out of my mouth.
“We should get back to the candles,” I say quietly. “Carter will be back soon to make dinner and…”
“Right,” he whispers, though his stare lingers, dark and focused. “Wouldn’t want to give your brother a show.”
Why does he have to make my heart beat like it’s going to break through my ribcage?
Two hundred jars later, all labeled and stacked in the boxes Eliza left for us, the kitchen is gleaming, and my brother won’t have a fit when he returns.
“Here.” Adam rounds the corner, tossing me something small. “We deserve a little treat.”
The candy lands in my palm, and I can’t help but laugh. “Do you have a box of chocolates stashed under your bed?” He always had sweets around his apartment. Loved to offer them as a reward or a pick-me-up.
“I don’t have to hide my guilty little pleasures,” he says, unwrapping one and popping it into his mouth, the sound of contentment vibrating in his chest. It leaves me dry mouthed.
He’s doing it on purpose to rattle me, because the next thing he does is put his lips around the tip of his thumb, looking straight at me when he says, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oh, I could think of a few things.
Carter must think I’m still five, and he can trick me to get what he wants.
