Page 40 of Casita Casanova
“Stop what?” he asks, his breath making my loose hairs dance across my cheek.
Time to submerge myself in cold water. An ice bath. Maybe I should jump into the pond. When was it last cleaned? The koi fish won’t mind—
His fingertips skim the curve of my shoulder.
I suck in a breath.Shit. Shit. Shit.
He’s closer in age to my daughter than he is to me.
“Maryn,” he practically purrs.
My eyes flutter closed. How can he make my name sound so… alluring? “Mhm?”
“It’s just a few years.”
My eyes widen and I turn quickly to face him, clenching my teeth to keep from gasping at the heady look in his pale green eyes. “Back up, please.” My breathlessness gives away my desire, and if he wanted to, he could do any number of things to me right now and I wouldn’t do a thing to stop him.
But he obeys, taking two steps backwards, and I breathe deeply.
“Thank you. From now on, let’s try to maintain this distance.”
His lips twitch as he gauges the distance between us. “Three feet, maybe four.”
“Yep.”
“No promises.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “Dinner’s ready. Go set the table, please.” I point to the cabinet behind his head. “Plates.” Then I point to the dishwasher. “Clean forks. Napkins are on the table.”
He gives a curt nod, that sexy, smug as hell smirk still lingering on his lips, then gets to work.
I drain the pasta and transfer it into a serving dish, then tilt the saucepan to pour the marinara sauce over the penne noodles. With the dish in one hand and the container of parmesan in the other, I join him at the small dining table in the living area.
He stands as I approach, then sits when I do.
A gentleman, even if he is brazen and smug.
“This looks good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I motion for him to help himself, but he shakes his head.
“After you.”
I serve myself a heaping ladle of pasta and sauce, then turn the bowl toward him and help myself to the salad.
We eat in silence, but what is unsaid speaks volumes in his heavy gaze. It doesn’t leave me as he eats, like he’s trying to figure me out. I can’t imagine why. What’s interesting about me?
“Are you excited for your first day of work tomorrow?” he finally asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes. No.” I frown, shaking my head. “Maybe? A little bit?” With a laugh, I set my fork down and pick up my wine. “I haven’t worked in twenty years.”
His eyebrows rise slowly up his forehead. “That sounds like a story.”
I snort. “It’s really exciting. Ready?”
Cas nods.
Setting my wine down, I splay my hands and wiggle my fingers. “I’ve been a stay-at-home mom and a housewife.”
