“I only remember the story when I’m drinking,” he told her.
“Be sure and add beer to the next run to the store,” she said.
“No can do. Hard to play bodyguard when you’re drunk.”
Leo finished the last potato and rinsed off his hands. “We’ll have to ask the questions when this is behind us,” he suggested to Olivia.
She laughed. “I expect every one of you to line up to buy me drinks,” she said.
“Is that so?” Isaac asked as he pushed his way into the space between Leo and Olivia at the sink to wash his hands.
“Well, yeah. Men have to buy me a drink before they see me in my underwear. The way I see it, you owe me.”
Leo couldn’t help but glance down below her chin.
Isaac kept his eyes straight ahead, his mouth shut.
Leo had seen more than enough to fantasize about, but he hadn’t enjoyed it at the time.
“I’ll buy you a few drinks, Olivia.” Lars pushed off the couch and walked out of the room.
“I’ll remember that,” she called after him with a smile.
“Meatloaf will be done in an hour.” Isaac backed away from the sink, turned toward the mess he’d made preparing dinner.
Leo leaned a little closer to her. “I don’t think anyone really noticed.”
“That’s unfortunate. Apparently, I take care of this body.”
That she did.
“You didn’t notice?” she asked in a whisper.
Slippery slope, Leo.
“Nope.”
“Hmm . . .” She walked behind him, removed the pot they were going to boil the potatoes in. “What color is my bra?”
“Black,” he said without thinking.
“That is my cue to vacate the kitchen. Feel free to clean up my mess,” Isaac said behind them with a dramatic slide of one palm against the other as if he was brushing away a fistful of dirt.
Once they were alone, Leo started to laugh. “You sure know how to clear a room.”
She plopped the potatoes into the pot as it filled with water. “I didn’t scare you off.”
He wiped his hands on a dish towel, turning to lean against the counter beside her. “That’s because I’m probably the only one that’s been wondering what you look like in next to nothing.”
“Not that you’re acting on that.” She turned off the water, took the towel from his hands, and dried hers.
“Which you are not making easy.”
She laughed, looked down at the towel, and tossed it on the counter. “Busting your balls is the only time I feel normal,” she told him.
“That’s a recipe for disaster,” he said.
He felt her fingertips as she reached out and brushed his hip.
Suddenly the memory of that black bra and slim waistline wasn’t so fuzzy from the stress of the moment.
“Makes me wonder what else will feel normal.”
She stepped into his personal space, leaned into him.
His cock jumped to attention. Damn thing was his truth serum.
Leo inched his gaze to her shoulder, then moved up to her chin, and finally those eyes he envisioned every night before he fell asleep.
This is a bad idea.
“No?” she asked as she dropped the hand she’d used to touch him. She sighed as if giving up and put space between them.
His hand shot out, stopped her from leaving.
Her eyes showed surprise when he reached for the side of her face and pulled her in.
Their lips touched with a physical spark, the kind that came from walking across carpet. Maybe that stalled their kiss, but something put it on pause, and they took a breath at the same time before he tilted his head and made sure she’d remember his kiss long after this moment passed.
She was soft in his arms as he folded her in. Those tempting lips opened slightly as if testing the waters.
He gave in, letting her lead.
A touch of her tongue against his retreated and then returned for more.
He released her hand and placed his own on her hip.
Hers fell on his leg, dangerously close to his erection. Not that he had any intention of doing anything with that other than giving it a cold shower.
No, this kiss was for her. Give the woman what she had all but asked for.
But the dig of her fingertips on his leg told him her raw need matched his . . . and that had to be curbed. Stopped.
He didn’t know who slowed down their kiss, but they pulled back just enough for him to feel her rapid breath on his lips. “Feel better now?” he whispered.
She nodded. “Ah-huh.” And then she shook her head. “You’ve been holding out, Mr. FBI.”