Her lovely face lighting with excitement, she rushed into the kitchen. “The lasagna is ready. I was just keeping it warm in the oven. Let me put these beauties in water first.”
In the time it took her to find a vase and arrange the flowers in it, Cliff removed the lasagna from the oven, filled both plates, lit the candles, and found a bottle of sparkling grape juice in the fridge.
When she saw him filling a couple of wineglasses with it, she wrinkled her nose in apology. “Sorry. That’s all I have. I’ve kind of been on a health kick lately.”
He sent her a reassuring smile. “This is fine. I can’t get buzzed from alcohol anyway.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot. That kinda sucks.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. But on the plus side, it keeps half-crazy vampires from going on drunken rampages.”
She laughed. “True.”
They settled beside each other on the sofa, close enough that their arms brushed. Then they picked up their wineglasses.
“To us,” she said with a soft smile.
“To us,” Cliff repeated, stealing a tender kiss before they clinked their glasses together and took a sip.
Emma’s stomach rumbled as they spread napkins on their laps and tucked into the tasty pasta.
Cliff grinned and took a bite. “Mmmm. This is delicious.”
“Thank you.”
His mind cycled back to the sparkling grape juice and her health-kick comment. “You aren’t having any health problems, are you?” If so, he’d have to find a way to bring it to Melanie’s attention. Maybe he could say he heard Emma mention it in the cafeteria or something.
“No.” With what appeared to be great reluctance, she said, “It’s just how I’m dealing with the aftereffects of the mercenary attack.”
His chewing slowed as he eyed her with concern. He hadn’t really thought about the lingering effects the mercenary attack might have on network employees. He studied the arms left mostly bare by her dress. Cliff ran himself ragged on the treadmill to try to silence the voices that battered him. He’d noticed the increased muscle definition in Emma’s arms, the slight narrowing of her waist and slimming of her hips. Did she exercise vigorously to combat… what? Nightmares?
She shook her head. “It isn’t what you think. I’m fine. I just want to be in better physical condition if something similar goes down in the future so I can be like you and help others out.”
Cliff stared at her. Did she have any idea how much those words meant to him? That she saw him as someone who helped others rather than someone who was destined to lose his mind and harm them?
“I’ve been meaning to pour more effort into my health anyway,” she added, “so it’s a win-win.”
Swallowing, he nodded and asked her about her day, much of which she’d spent singing off-key to Sly and the Family Stone while she scraped old paint off the siding out front.
He laughed when she claimed her warbling had scared off two squirrels and stunned every bird within a mile’s radius into appalled silence. She laughed when he told her about Linda’s outburst in the lab that sent Stuart and Miguel stumbling and flying off the treadmills. And the two of them continued to laugh and talk as they enjoyed their dinner, just as they would have on an ordinary date.
Cliff loved it. And loved Emma all the more for it.
As soon as both plates were empty, he drew her onto his lap.
Smiling, Emma looped her arms around his neck and toyed with his dreadlocks.
“Thank you for this,” he murmured, rubbing noses with her.
She shook her head. “I love you, Cliff. Not just your perfect body and handsome face, but your intelligence and sense of humor and caring nature. I love every minute we spend together, however we choose to spend it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Amber light flared to life in Cliff’s eyes as he brushed her lips with his. Once. Twice. Then deepened the contact.
Desire shot through Emma when his arms tightened around her and his tongue stroked hers. She could feel Cliff’s erection trapped beneath her, but that wasn’t where she wanted it. Dropping her hands to his shoulders, she rose onto her knees, slung a leg over his, and straddled him.
As soon as she sank onto his lap, Cliff gripped her ass in both hands and tugged her tight against him. Yes. His hard cock, still constrained by the fabric of his pants, rubbed her clit. Moaning, she rocked against him as his kisses grew more feverish, his hands more bold.