Page 19 of Love & Rockets

She barked a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s me. A regular Ronda Rousey.”

Bracing a shoulder against the doorframe, he watched as she drained the water from the pasta. She wore a bra. He could see the line of the strap beneath her shirt. Fortunately for him, the undergarment did little to harness the tantalizing jiggle of her breasts when she gave the colander a shake. Of course, she looked over at that moment, busting him out on staring at her bust for the second time in five minutes.

Heat prickled his neck and lit the tips of his ears, but he did his best to shrug off his embarrassment. “I wouldn’t go that far, but you are pretty formidable in your own way.”

She paused as she lifted the strainer from the sink. Threads of thin spaghetti took their best shot at escaping through the narrow slats cut into the bowl, but Darla didn’t seem to care. She focused all her attention on him. “You think I’m formidable?”

Jake nodded and pushed away from the door. The advertised bottles of salad dressing flanked a plastic bowl filled with pre-cut lettuce, shredded carrots, and a few token bits of red cabbage. A bag of shredded cheese lay propped against the side of the bowl—an addition he heartily approved—and there was a loaf of bread wrapped in a blue and white striped kitchen towel. He drank in the homey chaos of it all as she moved to the stove, rose up onto her toes again, and poured the pasta straight into a pot of rich red sauce, creating a splatter pattern a homicide detective would love.

Holding the empty colander, she turned back to him. Still barefoot. Even more flushed. And beautiful. Soft and strong. She covered one foot with the other and rubbed slowly. In the blink of an eye, Darla Kennet shifted from pretty-but-prickly to utterly irresistible.

Without giving a thought to the possible consequences of his actions, he stepped into the tiny kitchen, wrapped his arm around her and drew her flush against him—sauce splatters, kitchen implements, and all. The tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lips as she tipped her head back to look up at him.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” The question came out in a breathy rush. Not a tease. No hint of taunt.

“Yes.”

She blinked once, then grabbed the front of his shirt with the lobster claw oven mitt she was still wearing. “Then you’d better make it quick. Grace has a jones for garlic bread. Unless you handed her a book before you came in here—”

“Is dinner ready yet?” Grace called from the other room.

Jake released her so fast she stumbled back against the sink.

“Sorry.” The apology tripped right out of him.

“Are you?”

He stared straight into her eyes. “Only because I wasn’t fast enough.”

She curled the quilted claw into a fist. “If you’re here for me, tell me now,” she ordered in a low voice. “Leave Grace out of it.”

The implication had all the effect of a punch to the throat. “You invited me here.” The factual reminder did nothing to soften the stubborn set of her jaw. “For Grace or for you?”

She snorted, tossed the plastic strainer into the sink, and yanked the oven mitts from her hands. Pursing her lips, she selected a spoon from a colorfully-painted ceramic jar on the counter, but instead of using it to stir the noodles into the sauce, she pointed the spoon at him as if she could hold off his advances. “I asked you here to help Gracie. You’re the one who showed up with a bottle of wine like this was some kind of a date.”

He took another step back. “Since we were raised in the same circles, I’m going to assume you know that’s an unfair accusation. I was taught never to show up at someone’s door empty handed.”

“Well, I’m sure Gracie would have appreciated the grapeyness if she had tasted it.”

The old knot of tension between his shoulder blades was back. “I have an old telescope in the back of my car. I was thinking she could use it if she wanted.”

“A telescope?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “A higher grade than most people buy in stores. She’d be able to see more, even with the ambient light from the city.”

“You brought my daughter a telescope?”

On the inside, Jake braced for impact, but somehow managed to keep his cool. He tossed her question off with a nonchalant shrug of one shoulder. “On loan. I didn’t know how you’d feel about me loaning one to her, though, so I wanted to talk to you before I brought it in.”

She stared at him, those coffee-no-cream eyes locked on him and pure incredulity written all over her face. “You brought one of your fancy telescopes over for my thirteen-year-old kid to use on her science project?”

“Well, I have a newer one and this one was sitting in my closet—”

Darla tossed the spoon into the waiting pot and turned to face him full-on. “I want to kiss you.”

Narrowing his eyes, he tried to calm his racing heart and outright ignore the half-hard-on poised for lift-off. “Is that a yes on the telescope?”

“Are we eating, or have you guys already gone all Donner Party in there?” Grace asked.

---