Page 29 of The Bourbon Bride

“Remember when I said I wouldn’t mind you leaving so much if you kissed me when you get home?”

He nods.

“It’s not true. I’m really bummed you’re leaving right now and want to beg you to stay, kiss be damned.”

He laughs. “Same page, same book.”

I make him honey garlic glazed salmon with jasmine rice and green beans and the kitchen is sparkling when I expect him to be home. I sent Cerberus to his place as I cooked and cleaned so I wouldn’t end up battering him again and needing another shower this evening. Not that I’m complaining because that allowed me to see Hayes shirtless and he let me feel his chest and abs without any barrier under my hands, but I don’t want him thinking I’m always making a mess. Because it’s only most of the time, not always.

I’m lighting taper candles I found in a box in the back of a drawer, the table set so well my mama couldn’t even find fault, when I hear the door open and Cerberus whines from the mat in the kitchen.

“Honey, I’m home.” I hear from down the hall. It’s not even close to sounding like the fifties television phrase he stole it from. Instead, it sounds like more of a rumbled promise he intends to keep.

Hearing that phrase from him does silly things to my insides and gives me a major case of nervous butterflies. I smooth my hands over the white shirt I managed to keep stain-free during dinner prep and turn away from the table and start toward the hall to meet him.

“Go ahead, big guy,” I tell Cerberus with a smile. He sprints out of the kitchen. I follow, nearly as eager as the dog is to see Hayes. He gives the dog an affectionate scratch under his chin when Cerberus gets to him. He straightens up and continues down the hall, the giant black dog on his heels.

“Did you cook dinner again?” He looks into the kitchen, which is spotless, then looks toward the dining room where I lean against the doorframe.

“I have a handful of recipes under my belt and I plan to make as many as I can while you let me stay with you to show my immense gratitude.”

“Here I thought you were a hotel mogul in training, but you keep surprising me with your vast talents.”

I give him a patient look. “I’m a proper Southern lady. I am incredibly talented and can do anything you can do, but backward and in heels,” I drawl. “I could run a multi-million-dollar business by day, then cook you a gourmet dinner, entertain your work friends, and plan a charity function at night.” I laugh and shake my head, not even able to take myself seriously with that pitch that would have made Mama proud.

“Mmm,” he growls, stalking closer. “You really are the perfect woman.”

My laughter stops abruptly when he buries his hands in my hair and tips my head up, his mouth on mine in a hot second. His kiss ravages my lips, his tongue sweeping against mine and leaving me breathless. He uses his thumb to turn my face to the side and kisses along my jaw, making his way to the sensitive spot below my ear that I am only just now aware of.

Holy wow, the vibration of his exhale on my neck sends a shudder through me that makes my knees weak, which I always thought was just an expression used in Nanny Fairchild’s romance novels until this very moment.

One of his arms drops to my waist and pulls me tight against him, the entire length of our bodies touching as he nips at my earlobe.

“I could eat you for dinner, Miss Fairchild.” His voice is a rumble of pure sexiness.

My brain short circuits in that moment. I can’t think of a word to say and I make this humming noise in my throat that I hope conveys the appreciation for his masterful use of the art of seduction. It works. I am so seduced and know what his bedroom voice sounds like. I like it, maybe too much, as my panties grow damp and I squirm in his arms.

“I like when you make those noises. It makes me want to find out what others you will make when I have my mouth on you.” He grazes his teeth down the side of my neck. “Do it again.” He bites the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and I moan.Me. I just moaned. He licks over the light bite. “That’s my good girl.”

He gives me another bite-kiss on my neck and steps back, leaving me up on tiptoes, his shirt fisted in my hands keeping us connected. When did I grab his shirt? I must have blacked out from the overstimulation of having Hayes hold me, kiss me, and talk to me like that. I’m a live wire, an exposed nerve, all feeling and energy and nowhere for it to go except to course through my body in shivers and racing adrenaline.

I loosen my fingers and let my hands slide down his chest to his stomach and then, with a little regret, leave his body and return to my sides. I’m still a little hazy and at a loss for words as he watches me with eyes smoldering and so deep green that they remind me of a jungle, wild and dangerous. I take a deep breath to clear my nose of his manly scent, all expensive cologne and whatever he exudes that my body is hardwired to respond to, making me crazy for him. This might be biology at work, but it doesn’t fully capture his allure and the attraction I feel for him. That is something else entirely.

“Y-you’re really good at that,” I croak, my voice as unsteady as my legs.

“That’s how I want to greet you every night you are here. You don’t even have to make dinner. In fact, I’ll take care of dinner the rest of the week, because I don’t want you thinking you have to lift a damn finger or earn your stay. You’re my guest, and I want you to feel comfortable here.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.” I don’t mean it as a joke, but I feel my smile pulling at the corners of my mouth anyway.

“There are a lot of ways I could make you feel even more welcome, but that might take all night, and you already went through the trouble of making what smells like an amazing dinner. So instead of throwing you over my shoulder, marching you upstairs, and doing all sorts of unspeakable things to you, I’ll calm down and be good company.”

“When you put it like that, I may be tempted to abandon dinner plans.” I look down at my hands, fingers twisting together nervously. I’m more than intrigued. I imagine this is a state of heightened arousal, and my body wants all of the unspeakable acts he mentioned to take place right this moment.

He catches my chin and lifts my face again. “I’ll rein it in. I’m sorry for being so forward. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment, and don’t want him to think that because I’m inexperienced I don’t want this now. “It’s a little overwhelming, and fast, but… I like it.”

“I’ll slow down. There’s no rush.” His hand leaves my chin, the backs of his fingers caressing down my neck to my chest, where he flattens his palm over my heart. “You need to be ready here, not just here.” His hand slides down between my breasts and over my stomach, his fingers turning down as he softly cups between my legs.

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