Page 67 of Angel In Armani

She took one of the grocery bags and carried it through to the tiny kitchen. She cooked well enough to ensure she didn’t starve or blow all her money on takeout, but a well-appointed kitchen hadn’t been high on her list of priorities when she’d been hunting for an apartment here on the island and she hadn’t really put the kitchen through its paces yet.

It was easier sometimes to just go to her parents’ and eat there while Dougal ran around the backyard in the dark. She put the bag down at the counter. “It’s not the greatest kitchen in the world.”

“Does the stove work?”

“Yes.” She’d made scrambled eggs, grilled cheese, and stir-fries, so she could at least vouch for the burners being in working order.

Lucas put his bag next to the one she’d taken and then leaned down to kiss her. “Then we’re in business.”

He started to draw back but she pulled him closer. It was nearly six hours since she’d delivered him to Deacon Field after their latest trip to Florida. Two nights since she’d had him in her bed. She wanted a taste of him more than she wanted dinner. He seemed to feel the same way. His hands came down to grip her butt and pull her closer as their mouths met and she pressed into him, glorying in the feeling.

Dougal’s patience finally broke and he got to his feet and shoved his nose between them.

“Ow, quit it, dopey dog,” Lucas said, breaking off. He grinned down at Dougal, and bent to rub the dog’s ears. Which led to the two of them wrestling around the apartment for a minute or two, Lucas looking just as delighted as Dougal. Damn it. It was hard to resist a man who loved her dog.

“Did you have a dog when you were a kid?” she asked when he came back to her and Dougal followed to come and lean against her legs.

“No,” Lucas said. “My mother isn’t a fan of dogs.”

Every time he mentioned his family, his eyes went flat. Time to change the subject.

“So, dinner?” she said.

Lucas’s face eased. He nodded and turned toward the grocery bags, Dougal bouncing around his legs.

“Bed,” she said to Dougal, who looked dejected but trotted immediately to the ratty dog bed that lived in the corner of the small living room, circling a few times before dropping down with a whuff. Sara laughed but didn’t relent. There wasn’t enough room in the tiny kitchen for two adults and Dougal. Not if any of them wanted to move.

Lucas kept unpacking the bags. With each package or can or bag that hit the counter, Dougal whined.

“I think you have a volunteer for assistant chef,” Sara said.

Lucas grinned and opened her fridge. “Your dog thinks I’m awesome.”

“He’s a dog, I wouldn’t rate his opinion too highly.” Though she did, to an extent. She’d give anything to know what made Dougal like Lucas so much.

Lucas folded his arms, grin widening. “You’re just jealous.”

She didn’t dignify that with a response. “You’re early,” Sara said. It was Saturday and he’d told her he’d probably be at Deacon until eight-ish. It was barely six now.

“Mal had something to do back in the city,” he said. “So Alex let us out early. In fact, because I’m early, I thought maybe we could do something before we ate.”

“Oh yes?” She grinned at him. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

He opened his mouth to answer but then her phone started to ring. Landline, not cell. Which meant it was probably her mom. “Hold that thought,” she said and looked around to figure out where she’d left the phone.

She spotted it on the kitchen table and scooped it up. Sure enough, it was her mom.

“Sara, honey,” Liza said. “I wasn’t sure you were home tonight.”

Sara’s stomach tightened at the too-bright tone in her voice. She sounded … brittle. Sara knew that voice. It meant her dad was having a bad day. “Hey, Mom. Yup, I’m home. Is something up?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. I made lasagna.”

Lasagna. Her dad’s favorite food. Which meant that her mom was definitely trying to either get him to eat or coax him out of one of his down days. She looked over at Lucas, who raised his eyebrows in question. “I’m not…” She hesitated.

“Oh, did you have plans?” The tension in her voice didn’t do anything to ease Sara’s stomach. Damn it. Something was going on and she couldn’t just abandon her mom and let her deal with it on her own.

“Not really,” she said.

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