Page 59 of Goode Tidings

His hand locks on my ankle when I've completed one revolution. His grip is tight, pressing into my skin. "Don't do that again." His voice is low. He may have issued a command, but it sounds more like a plea.

"Am I making you ner-vous?" I tease, drawing out the last word.

There's a light movement at my ankle. A brush of his thumb over the smooth skin, and I swallow a small moan. I look down at him. He stares up at me, fire and intensity burning in his irises. His thumb brushes over me once more. Three times. Four, and five.

A caress, I dare say. His touch stays put, but the effect travels. Up my calf, around my knee. Higher.

My tongue darts out to swipe over my lower lip as my heartbeats pick up pace.

"Mom," Oliver yells.

I startle, falling backward against the cabinets. My arms flail at the momentary feeling of falling, over-correcting and sending me forward.

A gasp tears from my throat, and I tumble down.

Into Callum's arms.

"Oof," I grunt when I land, smacking into his chest.

What a fool. What was I thinking?

Pursing my lips together, I peek up at my knight in shining armor. It's not until I look into his dark eyes that I realize I was expecting to see irritation in them. I don't. There is only relief, and a touch of something warmer. The same something that burned in his eyes when he tugged at my lower lip.

"I asked you to get down," he says, his voice low. Deep. Floating over me, sinking into my chest.

Um, so, my plan is to help Callum get back to life and eventually fall in love and be happy, but something about all that prickles uncomfortably in my chest. Am I re-thinking my idea to return Callum to the world for his second chance at love? Surely not. It's my libido trying to get in the driver's seat, that's all. Because damn if I don't want to rip off my clothes and let him have his wicked way with me here on the kitchen counter. The table. The back of the couch. I'd accept a bed of nails at this point.

It is really fucking hot in here.

"Mom? What are you doing?"

Callum lifts me enough that he can deposit me on my own two feet. He clears his throat and takes a step away. A BIG step away.

"I was reaching for something in that top cabinet and lost my balance. Thankfully, Callum was standing nearby and caught me." I busy myself with arranging the fake flowers in the plastic cup.

Oliver goes to the fridge and opens it, pulling out a can of soda. "Mom hates asking for help reaching things," he says to Callum. "She climbs instead."

Callum's brows turn down with disapproval. "I hope you don't do that when you're by yourself."

"Never," I lie, shaking my head back-and-forth.

"She's lying," Oliver adds unhelpfully.

"Thought so," Callum says.

"Alright, alright, enough." I wave my arms between them. "Callum is here because he doesn't know how to cook, and it's a life skill."

"I...have homework." Oliver hurries from the kitchen without a backward glance.

"I take it Oliver doesn't want to learn how to cook?"

I place the flowers to the right of the sink and turn around, leaning back against the counter. "Why learn when you have someone else doing it for you?"

"Very true. Or he could be like me and survive off canned food."

I give Callum a look, and he says, "Definitely not the healthiest option."

I push off the counter. "Now that we've tested your reflexes and found them to be good, let's start the lesson."