“Yes, and every night during your break. And as many of the days as I can fit in.” His gaze dropped to my mouth.
I wanted to kiss him too, but a token protest was in order. I placed a finger over his lips. “Shouldn’t we wait for an official date to have our first kiss?”
“We had our first kiss four months ago.”
“In that case—”
His mouth covered mine, a very effective way to shut me up. Except for the moans. I couldn’t control those. That kiss—or was it kisses?—went on forever. A sweet explosion of lips and tongues and pent-up need.
He drew back with a gasp. “Sara. Whoa.”
Where his eyes were wide with surprise and satisfaction, mine were half-shut in anticipation of round two. “A good rule for kissing. You have to leave ‘em wanting more.”
His hands slid up to my shoulders and gently pushed me away. “I do, but tomorrow.”
No, no, no. “Don’t, Scott. It’s too early to go.”
He cupped my face and brushed his lips softly against mine. “I’m leaving. You need to get to bed.” He backed up, reaching blindly for the doorknob. “See you in twelve hours.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I asked off at noon.” His adorable dimple appeared in his cheek. “I figured you might be awake by then.”
“Watch it.”
The door closed, cutting off the sound of his laughter.
Oh, wow, it was wonderful to be home.
The slam of a door reverberated through Harley House. I rolled over and peeked at the bedside clock. Eight-thirty.
Footsteps thumped on the first floor, paused, and then thumped away.
My mother had arrived in the business office. I slid from the bed and yanked a pair of sweatpants on under my nightshirt. After a quick pit stop, I charged down the inside staircase and into the back of the shop.
Mom looked up from the table. When her gaze landed on me, she shot out of her chair and hurried over to me.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, hugging me tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home.”
“Me too.”
“I brought breakfast.” She gestured at the table behind her.
Cinnamon apple coffee cake, with the portion of apples doubled and light on the icing. My favorite. I cut myself a huge slice. “Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled with my mouth full.
“How did your exams go?”
“Fine.” In between bites of coffee cake, I answered all of her questions about my courses and schedule for next semester. She seemed especially interested in my business classes.
After a few minutes, though, her gaze strayed to her laptop and her nods seemed less attentive.
I understood. My folks were glad to see me, really and truly. But they’d adapted to life without me—just like all empty-nester parents. Actually, it felt pretty normal, which was good.
“So, Mom. Any plans for me while I’m home? Do you need help with the shop?”
She dragged her gaze away from the computer screen. “We will next week, but take a couple of days to relax.”
“Sure.” I wouldn’t be arguing with that plan. I already knew how to fill my free time.
