Page 56 of The Love Shack

She grinned, leaned toward him and said like a taunt, “Ice creamanda cookie.”

“Now you’re talking.”

When she opened the cabinet to get down bowls, he saw a plastic storage container. Reaching over her to get it, he asked, “Okay to put the last two slices of pizza in this?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He stored the leftovers in the fridge, crushed the pizza box and rinsed their glasses in the sink.

While putting two cookies in each bowl, she said, “You can stick those in the dishwasher if you want. I need to run it tomorrow anyway.”

He’d always been responsible for his own messes, so of course he didn’t mind pitching in, but it seemed extra nice that she was comfortable enough with him to give him directions.

With that done, he came to stand at the counter beside her. The house was quiet and dim, the pets sleeping, the sun all but set. It was a hell of a pleasant way to spend an evening.

Near her ear, he whispered, “Another scoop of ice cream for me. I’m bigger than you.”

She snickered. “And that means you get privileges?”

He’d like a few privileges—with her, not her dessert—but he was wary of pushing for too much, too soon. “I had a rough day.”

“Oh?” Now looking worried, she glanced at him and apologized. “I’m sorry. I was so caught up in my own drama, I didn’t even think—”

Why not? Lawson leaned down and pressed a barely there kiss to her mouth. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for letting me in, okay? I’m glad you shared with me.” Lightly, he fingered the hot-pink tips of her silky hair. It was pretty, and unique, just like Berkley. “Really glad.”

Blue eyes stared up into his before she suddenly turned back to her task.

Well, hell. He’d rushed her after all. “Berkley...”

She closed the ice cream carton, dropped a spoon into each bowl and then faced him once more. “You could do that again if you want.”

Dare he hope? His body certainly did, but to be sure, he asked, “Do...?”

“This.” She came up on tiptoe to press her mouth to his.

Just that, nothing else. A press. Two heartbeats, three.

It was...eye-opening. Fighting a smile, Lawson caught her shoulders and eased her away, his gaze searching hers. “Berkley, when was the last time you kissed someone?”

Heat rushed into her face. “Was it that bad?”

“No.” God, no. “Let me make it clear—you touching me is never bad. You kissing me, any way at all, has my never-ending approval.”

Amusement replaced the worry in her gaze. “So then why the question?”

He rubbed her shoulders. “That felt like your first kiss.”

Issuing a half groan, half laugh, she dropped her forehead to his chest. This time he didn’t hesitate to fold his arms around her.

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining, believe me. I just want to make sure I do this the right way.”

She went still, and said against his shirt, “This?”

He tucked a knuckle under her chin, tipped up her face and kissed her.Hisway. Gently searching. This kiss carefully explored the texture of her mouth, from the corner to the peak of her upper lip and the sweet center of her bottom lip. Her breath quickened, her lips parted, and he tilted his head for a better fit, increasing the pressure while coaxing her to relax. The slow, easy kiss grew warmer and deeper until she settled against him, chest to thighs. Breathing faster, her fingers gripped his shoulders.

He spread his hands over her narrow back, keeping her close, acutely aware of her past experiences and current reservations. When she made a small, eager sound, he coasted one hand to the bare skin of her arm, up to her shoulder and then her neck beneath her hair. Her dyed strands felt silky and cool, teasing him with the need to hold her head, crush her close and let them both get carried away.

Because this was Berkley, fragile in her own unique ways, and he was just beginning to understand how much she mattered to him, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to gradually ease up.

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