stop.”
Who could blame him for pulling her even closer after a comment like that? “I might be okay with never stopping.”
“Lucas?” She lifted her gaze, her fingers behind his collar almost as distracting as the sight of her lips.
“Yeah?” His voice was husky.
“When you said, ‘it’s a date’ the other day, and I said, ‘definitely,’ we did mean the same thing, right? This is a date-date? And you did kiss me and—”
“Yes, yes, and absolutely, unquestionably yes.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder, but not before he caught the glimmer of satisfied relief in her eyes. “Good.”
“It’s also probably important for you to know that, assuming you’re amenable and all, I have every intention of a repeat.”
He felt her giggle. “The date or the kiss?”
“Both, preferably. Maybe one sooner than the other.”
“Well, I’m free tomorrow for another date—”
“Go ahead and willfully misunderstand me all you want, Miss Belville, but I’ll make myself clear soon enough. Again, assuming you’re amenable.”
She looked up at him again. “When? Right now?”
“And once again, I can’t tell whether you’re issuing a challenge or an invitation.”
Her blue eyes fairly sparkled. “Maybe both.”
“We’re in the middle of a crowd.” He leaned his head toward hers. “All our friends are probably watching us this very moment. And the kids. Think of those impressionable young minds.” They were so close now that the tiniest movement would give him what he’d wanted for days. For years, really.
“Are you trying to torture me, Lucas Danby?” Her voice was a breathless whisper.
He tightened his hold, dipped his head . . .
“Jen?”
His sister’s voice shattered the moment. Really, Kit? Now? He felt Jenessa release a breath as ragged as his own.
“I think Cade has a fever.”
All at once his arms were empty as she turned. And then Colie appeared. She tugged on Jen’s arm, one hand splayed on her stomach. “I don’t feel very good.”
Two kids down. One, hopefully, not to go.
Jenessa stepped from her steaming bathroom, that hot shower even more soothing than she’d expected, and padded to her bedroom doorway, ears perked for any sound. She’d left her door inched open just in case anyone needed her. Colie had already thrown up twice, and Cade’s fever, though thankfully not too high, indicated he must have the same bug as Colie.
Violet, at least, seemed completely fine.
And as of right this moment, five minutes past midnight, all three were still sound asleep if her ears didn’t deceive her. She let out a sigh and quickly traded her fleece robe for pink cotton pajama pants and the first tee she pulled from her dresser drawer. She shrugged into a light blue zippered sweatshirt, then stopped in to check on Cade before heading downstairs.
Thankfully, his forehead had cooled. Surely she had prayer and Lucas to thank for that.
Sweetheart that the man was, he’d run to the mini-mart earlier to pick up 7-Up and children’s Tylenol. He’d distracted Violet while Jenessa had been in the bathroom with Colie. He’d rocked a feverish Cade to sleep. He’d insisted on sticking around while she showered.
He’d . . . fallen asleep on the couch in the sitting room.
Jenessa paused at the bottom of the stairs, a soft grin crowding out her exhaustion, her worry over the kids, and her regret that their time at the wedding had been cut short by a stupid stomach bug. He looked absolutely endearing, sprawled out like that with one arm flung over his chest and the other dangling from the couch cushion.
Both arms were bare from the elbows down, his suit jacket long since discarded. When had he rolled up his sleeves? She hadn’t noticed earlier. But now . . .
She crept toward him, the plush carpet underfoot tickling her toes, and lowered onto the edge of the coffee table in front of him. The kind thing to do would be to wake him up and send him back to the cottage. Or find a blanket and cover him, let him sleep the night away right where he was.
But the pull she felt at the moment was too strong. She watched the rise and fall of his chest for seconds that stretched until she felt herself give in. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and brushed her fingers along one scarred arm. His puckered skin was softer than she would’ve guessed.
She couldn’t stop herself from picturing how he’d received these burns, his muscled arms carrying a dying boy’s body. It was horrifying. Utterly dismaying.
“Jen?”
Her gaze flew to his face, his eyes now