“He bent down burying his face in my neck. I reached back to grab onto the iron bars behind me to hold myself up. My jacket slipped off my shoulders. I was pretty sure I was on fire and at that moment I would have sworn that bursting into flame was a glorious way to go.”

“We could have had a major disaster on our hands.""Right now the earth could fall off its axis, and I wouldn't give a rats behind."Michael's gaze skimmed over my bare shoulders, and he reached out to gently pull my jacket around them. "I've known since before we met how it would be between us. But knowing didn't prepare me for you.”

“Maybe we should take this back to my place."He lifted his head to look at me, a strange expression on his face. I let out a nervous giggle. "That sounded better in my head.""It sounded pretty damn good out of it.”

“I wanted to be alone with him. Really alone. "Maybe we should take this back to my place." He lifted his head to look at me, a strange expression on his face. I let out a nervous giggle. "That sounded better in my head.""It sounded pretty damn good out of it.”

“If he wasn't already holding my heart in the palm of his hand, I would have taken it out and given it to him right then.”

“I walked in without knocking. The screen door banged to a close behind me announcing my presence. I followed my nose to the kitchen and found Kaleb standing by the stove. He stirred something that smelled absolutely delicious a wooden spoon in one hand and a huge chef’s knife in the other.“Are you sober?” I asked from the doorway. He turned and leveled a smile at me that made me a little wobbly. “I am." “Good. Because if not I was going to take the deadly kitchen utensil away from you.” I crossed the room and pulled myself up to sit on the counter beside the stove. A cutting board full of green peppers and two uncut stalks of celery waited for attention from the knife. Melted butter and diced onions bubbled in a sauté pan on the stove. “You cook." Kaleb was so pretty I was jealous. Pretty with ripped muscles and a tattoo of a red dragon covering most of his upper body. “Yes,” he said. “I cook.” “Do you usually wear a wife beater and,” I pushed him back a little by his shoulder “an apron that says ‘Kiss the Cook’ while you’re doing it? ” He leaned so close to me my heart skipped a couple of beats. “I’ll wear it all the time if you’ll consider it.”

“One second he was kissing me as if I was as essential to him as oxygen, and the next it was over. He stepped away, looking haunted."Did I do something wrong?"I touched my mouth, missing the heat of him."No." He shook his head and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. I didn't want his hands in his pockets. I wanted them on me."Why did you--?""Not because I wanted to stop kissing you."He looked at my lips. My pulse sped up, but my blood felt like lava moving through my veins."Timing. My timing sucks."Circumstances. Not because of me. I couldn't keep myself from grinning. "Why would you like to try this again then, another time?""I'd very much like to try this again, another time."He grinned, but it carried a touch of sadness. "I'll give you a second to...fix your hair.""My hair?""I'll give you a second to fix my hair. I mean, I'll give you a second while I go fix my hair." He let out a sigh. "I mean, I'll see you downstairs." He turned to walk out of the room, but unfortunately, he forgot to open the door first. I managed to hold in my laughter until he got it right.”