the humor. “We need to introduce my aunt Beth to your mom.”
Grace pushed aside her plate.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For coming over. For making me laugh at what normally frustrates me.”
“I unloaded my baggage about my boss. The least I can do is listen to yours about Tristan.”
Outside, the cry of a coyote stopped their conversation.
“I don’t know if I will ever get used to that.” Dameon stood and looked out the back window.
“I would rather hear a coyote than the siren of a police car or ambulance.” Grace gathered both their plates and walked into the kitchen.
“I’ll do that,” he said.
She looked around for a garbage can, found it under the sink. “In my world, the one who cooks doesn’t clean.”
Dameon moved to stand beside her over the sink. “Since I didn’t cook, that doesn’t count.”
“I’ll wash, you dry and put away.”
Dameon spun around. “I don’t have dish towels.”
“Oh. Does the dishwasher work?”
His face lit up. “Yes. But I don’t have the right soap.”
“You need help,” Grace teased.
The two of them loaded the dishwasher and put the remainder of the food in the refrigerator.
With the chores out of the way, Dameon put another log on the fire and encouraged her to sit.
When she did, Grace realized quickly that the couch was as worn down as it was old. No matter where you sat, the missing springs in the middle forced you to roll toward the center.
“It’s pretty bad,” Dameon said. “I had the people that cleaned the carpet clean the couch before I sat on it.”
Dameon tried to sit a foot away, but they both ended up in the middle.
“That was a waste of money.” She scooted forward and started to lift the cloth covering the coffee table.
Dameon’s hand reached out to stop her. “Home Depot boxes.”
She laughed. “This reminds me of the days right after college when I was broke.”
He sat back and lifted his arm behind her shoulders and pulled her close. Not that he needed to do much of the work since the couch had already made it impossible to sit far away. “I keep going back and forth between hiring someone to do the shopping for me or doing it myself.”
“You hire someone to shop? How do I get that job?” She found the comfort of his arm and the crackle of the fire hypnotic.
“You’re overqualified.”
“Find me a woman who doesn’t like to shop with other people’s money.”
“I doubt that exists,” Dameon said.
She certainly didn’t know any. “So the house is lacking essentials, but I’m guessing the garage is already well equipped.”
“Of course. I know my way around the home improvement stores. Dish towels and coffee tables are a different story.”
“That’s a man for you. Buy a hammer you might need before a towel you use every day.”
Dameon took her hand in his and traced her fingers. His simple touch pulled a flutter from deep within her belly.
She gazed up to find him watching their hands. He stopped and looked at her. “I should probably be encouraging you to leave.”
“Probably.” Grace lifted her chin a fraction of an inch, and Dameon accepted her invitation.
The way the man kissed . . . slow and sexy. His arm around her shoulders pulled her in tighter as she opened her lips in acceptance. Her eyes closed, and the space between them did as well. This wasn’t a kiss good night in the front seat of a truck, or at her front door. No, this was hello. An awakening of sensations brought on by more than just the act. More than the feel of Dameon’s arms roaming down her back and up into her hair to tilt her head. This was more, somehow.
Grace didn’t want to question the butterflies in her stomach and the excitement of his touch.
She just wanted to feel.
Her hands reached for him, his chest . . . his arms.
The small brush of his thumb on her breast caught her breath in her throat.
Dameon moved his hand away and kept kissing her.
Grace reached for his retreating hand and put it more firmly on her chest.
He sighed and took what she was offering.
She started to squirm. The desire for more and closer and without clothes slowly became a need. Her fingertips pulled at the edges of Dameon’s sweater until she felt skin.
His lips broke away and his hand reached for her face.
Grace opened her eyes to find him staring. “This isn’t why I invited you over,” he whispered.
“I know that”—and she did—“but it’s what we both want.”