chill.
I got up and hefted a log. “Will one be enough to keep you toasty warm?”
He laughed with a mouthful of bread. “I’m not cold, Freckles. It’s just too dark in here. Feels like I’m in your brothers’ backyard fort. Is that rickety old thing still standing?”
When the kindling crackled to life, I sat on the hearth. “As long as that pack has children, the fort will stand.”
Lakota tore off a strip of bread and used it to spread butter on the larger piece before offering it to me. A flush of warmth went through my body when his finger brushed against mine. It seemed like such an innocuous gesture, and I couldn’t figure out why I was having that reaction every time we touched. Maybe it was my wolf responding to the idea of someone feeding me.
“How’s your ass?” He gave me a one-sided grin.
I opened my mouth, uncertain if I’d heard him correctly.
Lakota pinched a few blackberries from a bowl. “I bet you’re sore from the long ride back.”
“Oh. That. It wasn’t so bad. Tak kept me company.”
A peculiar look flashed across his face, and he patted the spot beside him. “The rug’s nice and soft.”
“Okay.”
After putting the fireplace screen in place, I stood up and sat next to him on the rug. The log snapped a few times as the flames intensified. The warmth was immediate, the luminous glow sublime. I washed down the bread with a gulp of water and tasted the blackberries. The food was alive, awakening my taste buds to natural flavors that weren’t processed and hosed down with chemicals. It made me feel more connected to this place—to these people.
“You look good without makeup,” he said.
I combed my hair with my fingers. “I look like a mess is what I look like. No hair dryer.”
“I like my women a little on the wild side,” he said with a wink. Lakota leaned back on his elbows and glanced at the plate between us. “You’d better eat that pie.”
“They forgot the silverware.”
“Indulge me.”
When he licked his lips, it was so sensual that memories of our kiss flashed through my mind. Lakota had nice lips, the kind every woman dreamed about tasting. His hair had fallen away from his face, allowing the contours of his jaw to stand out. But it wasn’t his jaw or even his lips that I was looking at. His arresting eyes burned as hot as the flames in the fireplace.
I picked off a piece of the crust with my fingers.
“That’s a sad little bite,” he mused. “Since when is Melody Cole afraid to get her hands dirty? I remember a girl who once climbed to the top of a telephone pole on a dare.”
“And who’s the one that started it?” I reminded him. “I also recall the fire department coming to get me down.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You threatened to pee on my head if I came up after you. What choice did I have? Hope didn’t want to get us in trouble by calling the pack. Anyhow, the firemen seemed tickled by it.”
“Oh, I’m sure. Having to get the ladder and rescue a girl from the top of a pole must have been the highlight of their day. They wanted to know what I was doing up there.”
“What did you tell them?”
I licked my finger. “That I wanted to make a call.”
We both erupted in laughter, and Lakota fell onto his back.
When he settled down, I set the pie plate on his chest. “You deserve this more than I do. That wolf back there wanted to kill me. If you hadn’t reacted when you did—”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Your arrow probably saved us, so we’re even.” Lakota lifted the wedge of pie, and two peach slices splattered onto his chest. He shoved what was left into his mouth, his cheeks as fat as a chipmunk’s.
I set the empty plate in the basket and moved it out of the way. “I hope you realize they didn’t bring us napkins.”
Lakota smiled as he swallowed the pie, and my eyes dragged down to the peach slices on his pec. “Waste not, want not. My people believe in sharing.”
I flicked his arm with my finger. “I know all about your people, and I don’t seem to recall your stepfather serving your mother dinner on his chest.”
He licked his thumb. “You never came over after midnight.”
Not one to turn down a dare, I leaned over and wrapped my mouth around a piece