the glass aloft, her fingers circling the rim as Skynard continued to sing about a Simple Kind of Man.
When she thought she could manage it she asked Matt what he was cooking. His answer surprised her and added yet another layer to the most complex man she’d ever met.
“I’ve got two steaks on the grill out back, just searing bacon wrapped scallops right now and we’ve got baked potato and a garden salad to go with it.”
Wow. Just. Wow. Grace slid from her seat and walked over to him so that she could see what he was doing. She stood an inch or so behind him, fighting the urge to slip her arms through his, and peered around Matt into the skillet.
“What are you cooking the scallops in?”
“Butter and garlic.”
“They smell amazing,” she murmured, though her eyes weren’t on the scallops—they were on the play of muscles across his back as he cooked the shellfish. “How on earth did you learn to cook like this?”
“When you’re on your own at sixteen, you’d be surprised at the skills you pick up in order to survive.”
Sixteen? Alone? Grace didn’t know how to reply to that and thankfully, Matt rescued her.
“You could maybe set the table?”
“Sure.” Glad to have something to do, Grace set her glass down and spent the next five minutes getting two place settings ready. By the time she was done, Matt was fetching the steaks from outside and she grabbed the potatoes from the oven. She filled his wine glass, did the same for herself and then the two of them sat down to eat.
They made small talk and eventually Grace relaxed. They covered the likes of Dory—who’d made it to Florida. Rosie—who should get her casts off in a few weeks. And Betty Jo—yes, Matt had known her since he was a teenager.
Matt Hawkins was intelligent, funny, smart and loyal. And those qualities didn’t begin to scratch the surface.
There were a lot of long lingering looks and the air was heavy, filled with sexual tension and something that was stronger. It was the something stronger that was scary and maybe it was the wine that made Grace ask the question, but in the end it didn’t matter. The words just fell out.
She was hot, on edge and totally and unequivocally one hundred and fifty percent into the man across the table from her. She set her wine glass down on the table and pushed her plate away.
“Do you feel this? This thing between us?”
Matt sat back in his chair, his dark eyes glittering in that way that told her he was just as worked up as she was. His chest rose and fell, a little faster than normal, and her gaze dropped to his long, masculine fingers as they caressed the stem of his glass.
She wanted those hands on her body. Right now.
“I do,” he replied, his voice a little rough and hesitant.
Her gaze shot back to his and her heart jumped at the unrestricted look of want and need in their depths. Her breathing quickened and thank goodness the table hid how desperately she squeezed her legs together, hoping to alleviate the ache deep inside her sex.
Somewhere in the house a phone rang, it’s shrill alarm cutting through their silence but not their need. Grace continued to watch Matt, even as Betty’s voice rang out.
“You guys coming or what? We’re here and uh, okay...well, don’t be doing anything I wouldn’t do. Which, shit, that’s not a lot so.” She said something unintelligible and Grace thought she heard her brother Beau. “Okay, well, hope to see you soon.”
“Do we have to go?” Grace whispered, holding her breath on his answer.
“I think we should.”
Trying not to show her disappointment, she nodded and reached for her wine glass. Crap. It was empty.
“But let’s have a code word.”
“Code word?”
Matt nodded slowly. “For when it’s time to leave and head back here.”
“Okay,” she breathed, smiling to herself and looking away from him because if she didn’t, she was going to jump across the table and have her way with him right now. “What’s the code word?”
He cleared his throat, a wicked grin sweeping across his handsome face making him look younger and more vulnerable. “Bluebell.”
Grace laughed, a full-on belly laugh that had Matt sliding from his chair and coming around the table before she could say a thing. He bent low and pressed a heated, hot kiss to her mouth.
“Give me ten minutes to shower and we’ll head out.”
She didn’t answer because