Eve laughed and shook her head. “No.” She reached out and wiped a bit of hummus from his lip.
Charlie grabbed her hand and playfully licked it off the end of her finger. But he didn’t stop there. He wove his fingers through hers and pulled her hand against his chest.
Their gazes locked and he slowly set his sandwich down to the left of his plate. Eve felt her pulse skip and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. And then, like a wave crashing on the beach, their need for each other overwhelmed them both. This was the way it had been between them five years ago. Nothing had changed.
Their frantic hands tore at each other’s clothes as their meal got pushed aside. Charlie pressed her back against the edge of the table, his palms skimming over her body, sliding beneath her shirt to cup her breasts and then moving on to unexplored flesh.
Eve felt dizzy, her knees weak and her mind unable to process what was happening to her. So she let her thoughts drift, focusing only on the sensations racing through her body.
He was gentle, yet determined, as if he knew exactly what they both needed. Eve clutched at the hem of his shirt, gathering it in her fists, holding tight as if it were the only thing keeping him close. She needed this, if only to remind her that she hadn’t lost everything in the divorce. She could still want a man, still crave his touch and his taste.
Charlie picked her up and set her back on the table, tugging her camisole over her head and throwing it over his shoulder. Eve glanced down, grateful to see that she’d managed to pick out decent lingerie that day. As he smoothed his hands over her shoulders, she took the opportunity to remove his shirt.
Eve swallowed hard as she took in the sight of him beneath the harsh lights of the kitchen. Though she’d seen his body before, nothing prepared her for the impact that a half-naked man would have on her ability to think-or breathe-or move.
With trembling fingers, she reached out and ran her hand over his smooth chest, his skin warm beneath her touch. It wasn’t wrong to want him. She was a grown woman, past the age when she had to worry about denying her sexual needs.
After her divorce, she’d worried that no man would ever want her again, that somehow she’d wasted her one chance at happiness. But Eve was happy now and that was all that mattered.
She waited for him to continue undressing her and when he didn’t, she reached for the clasp at the front of her bra. But Charlie caught her fingers and brought them to his lips. “Let’s wait with that,” he said softly. “We have time.”
But his idea of time and hers were two completely different things. For him, a week was a lifetime and a month, an eternity. He could be with her one moment and halfway around the world the next. Eve closed her eyes, waiting for her heart to stop pounding.
“Evie?” He hooked his finger beneath her chin and tipped her face up. “Look at me.” She opened her eyes. “We have time. I promise.”
Eve knew promises could easily be broken. But she also sensed Charlie was a man she could trust. Even though he’d left her, he’d never lied to her. “Would you like dessert?”
“Dessert?” He glanced at the remains of their meal. “We haven’t finished dinner yet.”
Eve slid off the table and walked to the pastry cooler. She pulled out a tofu white-chocolate-and-raspberry mousse that she’d perfected just last week. She found the whipped cream canister on the top shelf and grabbed it. “This is something new. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”
She added a generous topping of the cream and scooped out a spoonful and held it in front of his lips. He leaned forward and she pulled the spoon away.
“Promise you’ll tell the truth?”
“I promise.”
“I can trust you?”
Charlie paused as he realized that Eve wasn’t talking about the dessert. “You can, Evie.”
Satisfied, she fed him the mousse and waited for his reaction. He swallowed, then opened his mouth.
“More, please.”
“What do you think? Is it good?”
“One more taste.”
She scooped out another spoonful and waited. “Well?”
“It’s very good,” Charlie said. “I like the combination. And it’s kind of fluffy so you could eat a lot of it if you wanted to.”
“It’s made with tofu,” she said. “It’s a vegan alternative to white chocolate mousse.”
“I hate tofu,” Charlie said. “But I like this. A lot. So maybe I have changed since the last time we saw each other.”
Eve pushed up on her toes and kissed him, then took a spoonful for herself. “It is good. The whipped cream isn’t vegan, but I thought it would tempt you.”
“Whipped cream always tempts me,” he murmured as she scooped out another spoonful for him. He grabbed the canister and sprayed a tiny bit on her bare shoulder, then bent close to lick it off.
“I thought I could add a bit of Amaretto, too. To give it a greater depth of flavor.” She sighed softly as his mouth found the spot just below her ear. “What do think of that?”
“I think I’m going to enjoy sharing a meal with you, Evie.”
She knew they’d share much more than food over the next week. But she’d have to be patient and let their meals unfold naturally. Charlie was here with her now and if she just stopped thinking about the future, the present would fall into place.
THEY’D TEASED THEIR way through a late-night dinner at Evie’s restaurant, both of them avoiding the logical conclusion to their flirtation. By the time Eve pulled up in front of Charlie’s place, he was wondering what had ever possessed him to “take it slow.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Charlie said, glancing over at Evie, her profile illuminated by the street light. It was almost three in the morning and he didn’t want their time together to end. But if he asked her inside, his motives would be painfully obvious. “I probably shouldn’t ask you in,” he said.
“And I probably shouldn’t accept if you did. Are you asking?”
Charlie chuckled. “You know, there are a lot of things in my life I shouldn’t have done, but I try not to have any regrets. Would you come in if I asked?”
“Do you have regrets?” Evie asked.
“Yeah. One big one. I shouldn’t have left you. I should have stayed a little longer. Just to see.”
“See what?” Evie asked.
“I don’t know. But I think I might have missed something.” He smiled. “Another time. Hey, I was thinking about remodeling my kitchen. I could use your advice. Maybe you could give me some ideas. I don’t know anything about kitchens.” He couldn’t have come up with a lamer excuse to see her again and he waited for her to shoot him down.
“If it hasn’t changed since the last time I was in your house, it could use an update. It’s not that late and I’m still wound up from work. Why don’t I take a look now?”
Was she really interested in his kitchen, or had she decided to accept his invitation inside? Hell, they both knew what would happen once they stepped over that threshold. Clothes would come off and bodies would come together and they’d both be lost for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. “That would be nice,” he said.
They got out of the car and slowly strolled up the front walk. “We should probably talk about appliances,” he said. “And cabinets. I was thinking about a trash compacter.”
“Lots of people think that trash compactors are good for the environment, but they really give you a false sense of accomplishment. Recycling combined with composting would nearly eliminate the need for a trash compactor. We give most of our food waste to a worm farm. They come and pick it up every morning.”
Charlie could tell she was nervous. He unlocked the front door and swung it open in front of her. The light from the street filtered inside and she took a few steps forward. Charlie followed her and closed the door, leaving them both in the dark.
He reached out to place his hands on her shoulders and he felt her turn to face him. Evie stepped toward him and a moment later, they were caught in a gentle kiss. Without light, her hesitation seemed to dissolve along with his resolve.
There wasn’t much use fighting it. And if he had any doubts about her need for him, they were banished the moment she stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. Charlie cupped her face in his hands, molding her mouth against his as her hands wandered over his hair. They stumbled backward, kicking off their shoes along the way.
It had been a while since he’d gotten naked with a woman, so his reaction to her touch was immediate and intense. He tugged off her jacket, then drew her camisole over her head. When she brushed up against him, Charlie’s breath caught in his throat, the friction causing him to grow even harder.
He steered her toward the leather sofa in the center of the living room. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered against her mouth. He didn’t want any misunderstandings.
“Yes,” she breathed. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast, pushing aside the satiny fabric until he touched bare skin. Charlie rubbed his thumb across her nipple, bringing it to a hard peak.
He remembered her body so well and the way she reacted to his touch had been burned into his brain. Maybe he’d always known he’d come back, that what they’d shared would be revisited one day. That’s why he hadn’t forgotten her or the way her skin felt beneath his touch.
Spanning her waist with his hands, Charlie pulled her along toward the bedroom, both of them bumping into furniture along the way. But when she cried out, he stopped. Evie bent over at the waist and moaned. “Ow, ow, ow.”
“What is it?”
“I stubbed my toe. Ow. Oh, I think it’s broken.”
Charlie fumbled for the light. When he flipped it on, he found her sitting on the floor, holding her foot, her eyes watering. He squatted down beside her. “Let me see,” he said.
She looked up at him, her pretty face etched in a grimace of pain. “No.”
He gently pried her fingers away, then lifted her foot to examine it. “Wiggle your toe,” he ordered.
She winced, then did as he asked. Gently, he rubbed the hurt away, then drew her foot to his lips and kissed her toe. “Better?”
“No,” she said.
He kissed it again. “Now?”
“I think the gods are telling us that we shouldn’t do this.”
Charlie scooped her up into his arms, then straightened. Compared to the backpack he’d hauled up mountainsides, she was as light as a feather. He nuzzled her neck. “I think the gods have better things to worry about than us,” he murmured.
He carried her into the dark bedroom and set her on the bed, then stretched out beside her, pushing her back into the pillows. Furrowing his hands through her hair, he kissed her, taking time to calm her fears. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied in a breathless voice.
He found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it, then brushed it aside. Her body hadn’t changed much in five years, though she’d become a bit curvier. He liked the way she looked, like a woman who occasionally enjoyed a good meal. Charlie had never cared for obsessively thin women or those who used too much makeup or dressed provocatively. In truth, for the past five years, he’d been looking for someone exactly like Eve.
Slowly, they both shed the remainder of their clothes, each item tossed to the floor to make way for a more detailed exploration. Everywhere he touched was perfection, soft and yielding, warm flesh beneath silken skin.
He rolled on top of her, bracing his hands on either side of her body. The heat of his erection pressed against her thighs and she shifted, pulling her legs up along his hips. Charlie held his breath, fighting the urge to slip inside of her.
