Page 53 of Just This Once

She shrugged. “I guess not. Just curious.”

I put the key into the lock and paused. “I’m fifty-two.” The shock flashed across her face, and I couldn’t hold in my laughter. “I just turned thirty-one.”

Emily let out a relieved exhale. “Oh. Cool. Great. I’m twenty-five.”

“Relieved you’re not banging an old man?” I teased as the door opened with a soft thud, and then I stepped aside for her to walk in.

Without missing a beat, Emily breezed past me. “Youarean old man.”

I slapped her ass as she crossed the threshold and was rewarded with a giggling yelp. Once inside, I flipped on a few lights. Warm light flooded my home. Emily took a few steps in, looking around as she went deeper inside.

The living room unfolded in warm hues and sturdy wooden accents that reflected my home’s Craftsman style. Emily brushed her fingertips along the arm of a leather chair before walking toward the fireplace. It was masculine and simple, but it was home. I tried to read her expression as she turned in a circle, taking in my sanctuary.

“This is beautiful, Whip.” She smiled in front of the handcrafted wooden bookshelves that flanked the fireplace. “Did you read all these?”

I enjoyed watching Emily take in my space as if it were the first time she was there––which, given her hasty exit the first time, I guess made sense. Humbled to have her appreciate my home, I tucked my hands into my jeans. “Not yet.”

“This view.” Emily turned toward the picture window that framed views of the wooded landscape barely visible in the darkness. She turned and grinned. “I did not expect this.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What did you expect? Milk crate end tables and a mattress on the floor?”

She giggled. “I mean... kind of.” She waved a hand in front of her. “That would be very on brand for a firefighter.”

I grinned and closed the gap between us in two strides. “Well, maybe I’m not like every firefighter you know.”

She tipped her chin to look at me. “And I guess I’m not like every librarianyouknow.”

My eyes flashed with humor. “See. I knew there was a librarian hidden in there somewhere.” I flicked the end of her upturned nose and smiled.

When her stomach audibly grumbled, I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen.

There, the craftsmanship continued with custom oak cabinets and a meticulously tiled backsplash. The farmhouse sink, with its gleaming white porcelain, overlooked a garden where I had planted a variety of vegetables. Blueberry fields stretched beyond my property line and faded into the horizon.

A pendant light cast a warm ambiance and illuminated a handcrafted dining table surrounded by Craftsman-style chairs, each bearing the hallmarks of a woodworker in training. None of them matched, as I was testing out different styles when I made them, and they were far from perfect, but they were mine.

Emily surprised me by hopping up onto the counter. I moved to position myself between her knees. Her fingertips laced as her arms draped over my shoulders. “Make yourself at home,” I teased.

“I like your place.” She grinned. “It’s so... you.”

I nosed the column of her neck and inhaled her subtly sweet and feminine scent. “Thanks.”

“Did you build it?”

She hummed when I gently kissed her heated skin. “No, but I’ve enjoyed remodeling it. Making it mine.” I scraped my teeth against her collarbone, earning a delighted shiver. “I like making things mine.”

Her breathy laugh shot heat straight to my groin. “I can see that.”

I reared back to search her eyes, possessiveness surging through me. “Are you mine, Prim?”

Bratty defiance glimmered in her sea-blue eyes as her eyebrow arched. “For now.”

My palms ran up her thighs and squeezed. “For now.” I hated the sound of it but appreciated a good challenge. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

I turned from her, already missing the warmth of her skin, and examined what I had in the fridge. Without looking at her, I scanned for ingredients. “I know it’s late but how does shrimp scampi sound?”

“Ha!” she barked. “I was expecting peanut butter and jelly or something. Scampi sounds incredible. It’s not too much work?”

I pulled a few items from the fridge and dumped them on the large kitchen island.For you? Of course not.I leveled her with my gaze. “It’s not too much work.”

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