Page 95 of Lips Like Sugar

Kissing her quickly, Cole said, “I want this one,” pointing to the lupine and wild rose sketch.

“If you want it”—she kissed him back—“then it’s yours.”

“Are those the rules now?” His hands found their way to her hips. “Because there are all sorts of things I want—”

The knock at the front door cut him off, which was probably for the best. Spinning him around, she nudged him out of the kitchen. “You can tell me all about them later.”

“Believe me,” he warned, “I will.”

* * *

“You must be Cole,”her mom said, rising from their tiny table in their tiny dining area, her salt and pepper hair brushed and curled, her favorite coral lipstick freshly applied. She was wearing a lovely pale blue linen blouse Mira had never seen before. Maude Alice must have taken her shopping.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Linda.” Cole leaned in for a hug while Mira walked to the kitchen to put his flowers in water. “But I hope I’m not crashing your party tonight.”

“Not at all. We both wanted to meet the man making Mira smile more than she has in years. Isn’t that right, Ian?”

“Mimi,” Ian grumbled. “Awkward.”

Glancing over his shoulder at Mira while she uncorked his wine, he said, “Is that so?”

Mira pursed her lips, bit her cheek, did everything she could not to smile back at Cole, thus proving her mom’s point. “Who wants pepperoni?”

“Me,” Ian said, his thumbs flying over his phone screen. “Four pieces please.”

“Mom, do you want some wine?”

Cole popped up from his seat. “I can help with that. Linda? Wine? It’s red.”

“Is there any other kind?” her mom asked.

“Not in my world,” he replied with a grin so warm Mira’s heart simmered.

“Only a small glass for Mom,” she whispered when Cole joined her in the kitchen. “She can get a little loopy if she drinks too much.”

“So can I,” he whispered back, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush over the shell of her ear. “I’ll keep all our glasses light, so nobody feels singled out.”

It was such a simple, thoughtful gesture that, in her experience, most people wouldn’t have thought to make.

“And can I chip in for the pizza?” He reached for his wallet. “I think I have some cash.”

“No,” she told him. “Absolutely not. You’re my guest tonight.”

“Okay, then I guess I’ll just have to find another way to pay you back.” He slid his hand to her ass, then smacked it.

At Mira’s shocked chirp, her mom turned in her chair. “You okay in there?”

“Sorry,” Mira said, raising an incriminating brow in Cole’s direction. “The pizza’s hot.” Holding his stare, she sucked her finger into her mouth, sliding it back out with a smallpop, because two could play at the being-inappropriately-horny-in-the-kitchen game. “I think I burned myself.”

Eyeing her lips, rolling his own together, Cole backed out of the kitchen and brought the glasses of wine to the table.

“Music?” Mira asked after passing out the pizza and taking her seat.

Cole had just raised his glass to his lips when Ian suggested, “How about the Makers?”

Coughing on his wine, Cole said, “Good one,” holding his fist out to the side for Ian to bump.

There was a split second where Mira’s breath caught, when she worried Ian might leave Cole hanging, but she exhaled when their knuckles touched. Ian, she thought, might have even smiled.

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