Page 43 of In a Pinch

He points to me with his knife and waves it. “I’m not letting you anywhere near sharp objects until I know every lick of alcohol is out of your system.”

With a roll of my eyes, I reply, “I can promise, I have done much more dangerous things while slightly intoxicated than cooking french fries.” I lift my arms in an exaggerated shrug. “But if you want to put all the work in, be my guest.”

“You can make the milkshakes.” He nods his head to the fridge. “There’s ice cream in the freezer. Milk in the fridge.”

Hopping off the counter, I take a few short steps to the refrigerator and grab the milk. Opening the bottom shelf drawer in the freezer, I quickly find the ice cream. His whole fridge and freezer are stocked to the nines. I would think that, if you cooked all day, you wouldn’t want to come home and cook more, but what do I know? Mr. Becker tried to call me once on a weekend and I told him I’d charge double time if he did it again. He didn’t. Smart man, he is. We’ve developed a good working relationship the last couple of months.

We get the rest of the food whipped up in record time. He fries the potatoes in the pot, while I blend up our milkshakes. I’m probably making way too much, but I’d rather have too much milkshake than not enough. Grabbing the glass Sam got out for me, I pour the ice-cold milkshake into the glass.

Walking back to my spot on the counter, I set my shake down and hop back up on the counter. Sam makes his way over to me, sits the fries down next to me, and takes a bite of the fries. Following suit, I grab one and toss it down the hatch.

“Better than McDonalds?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, dunking my fries in my milkshake.

He gives me a quizzical look. “Can’t believe I’ve never thought to try that,” he says while watching me dunk my fry in my milkshake, then tilt my head back and drop it down the hatch.

“Here, try some.” I dunk my fry and hold it out for him. Expecting him to take it from my hands, it kind of takes me by surprise when his hands land next to my thighs, as he stands between them and lets me feed him the fry.

Never in my fucking life did I think feeding a man a french fry would be a borderline erotic experience, but here we are. His arms brush my bare thighs, and it makes my breath catch just a little. My gaze locks on his as he swallows the fry. With me on the counter, we are eye to eye. He feels this, too, right? I am not losing my ever-loving mind?

Now, this is the chemistry I was looking for with Shaun. That’s the thing with chemistry—it’s either there, or it isn’t. And here, in this room? It’s on freaking fire.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob and he leans in. Like a magnet, I can’t help but lean in, too. When his lips meet mine, I forget every reason why I thought I should stay away from him. My legs spread wider as he takes a step between them. He deepens the kiss and his hand wraps around the back of my neck, the other landing on my thigh. His grip on my thigh tightens, anda small moan slips before I can hold it back. Never have I ever experienced a first kiss like this. Usually, they freak me out a little, but kissing Sam feels like the most natural thing I’ve ever done.

Wanting to pull him closer, my hand slides through his curly hair. When we finally come up for air, I realize how totally screwed I am.

“Best fry I’ve ever tasted,” he says, leaning his forehead against mine. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?” It’s late and I should go home, but leaving now would feel like a crime.

Unable to speak without giving myself away, I nod. He holds my hand, like I can’t handle jumping off a counter. But the gesture is cute all the same.

“Hold on. I’ll be right back.” He turns to walk down the hallway, and I can see him step into his room. If someone had told me I would end up in Sam’s apartment tonight, I would have told them that they’re batshit crazy. But here we are.

He walks back out of the hallway. “Here. While I enjoy the view of you in that dress, I don’t think it’ll be very warm or comfortable on my leather couch.” In my hands are a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

“That was…” I have to pause to clear my voice. Damn, this man has my brain all messed up. “Really thoughtful. Thank you.”

“Bathroom is right down that hallway I came out of; first door on the left.” Nodding, I turn on my heels and head down the hallway.

The bathroom is clean, and just as dark and moody as the rest of the apartment. Not a single thing looks out of place. Sheesh, and I thought I was a freak about organization.

I pop back out to see Sam is already on the couch. He has a blanket stretched over his legs and his feet rest on the ottoman. He sees me come out of the bathroom, and a smile spreadsacross his face. He pats the spot next to him, making it clear that he still wants me close. I’m quickly finding I want him close, too.

When I cross the room, he pulls the covers back, and I slide in next to him. He drags my legs to rest across his and drapes his arm across my back. It feels so natural. How is it possible to feel this at home with someone I’ve never done this with before?

Unable to resist, I snuggle closer into his side as he hits play on the movie. The warmth and comfort make my eyes feel heavy, and his presence makes my heart feel safe. I feel his lips press against my forehead as I begin to drift off, feeling more at peace than I have in months.

Chapter Twenty

Sam

Azing of pain through my back causes me to drag my eyes open. Blinking slowly, I see the sunlight reflecting on wild, red hair and the night before comes crashing back to me. She rustles mindlessly in her sleep. The sight of her in my clothes, with her legs tangled with mine does something to me. How I went from being irritated beyond belief when we first met to waking up with her in my arms feels like a blur. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to stay away.

Looking down at Addie, I see her eyes start to blink open. Her red hair is a tangled, wild mess. Half her face is covered by her hair, and I can’t help but laugh as she dazedly looks around the apartment.

“Shit, I fell asleep.” She sits up and brushes her hair back out of her face. Watching her pull her hair up into a bun has me wishing it was me wrapping her hair around my hands.

“You sleep like the dead.” I chuckle.

---