Page 33 of Too Much In Common
“Careful,” the fog from his breath warmed her face.
He may have been talking about the ice. Her heart took the warning in another way. She turned her head before she looked at him too long and noticed... Rats. Too late. She’d more than noticed his lips. Who could blame a girl? She’d have to be dead not to notice them or how protected she felt in his arms. Her last relationship had been two years ago. Did she trust Chris enough to take that next step? Was it wise? Not ready to commit, she took a tentative step out of his arms. He loosened his grip but didn’t let her go completely.
“Are you okay?” He searched her eyes. Did he see how much she welcomed his touch?
“I will be.” The words came out in puffy clouds filling the space between them.
“Of course, you have the fastest reflexes.”
“At least this time they came in handy.” He opened the door and dropped her hand.
Tian turned to face him, laying her hand on the center of his chest. Through his parka, she could feel his muscles. “Chris, you are more than forgiven. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” She rose to her tiptoes, keeping her other hand on the door for balance, and brushed a kiss on his jawline, safely in his cheek area. At least, that is what she told herself as she settled into her seat. Kissing a guy on the jaw didn’t have the same effect it had on a girl, did it?
10
Chris satin the security office of Crawford and Ogilvie. Colin had a private meeting, meaning Chris was in one of those many long hours of being near and alert but not needed. He was literally getting paid to stand around all day, hoping he had nothing to do. Hoping for anything different was literally asking for trouble. He didn’t have to watch all the monitors since the building security guards did that. He only had to watch the one on Colin’s office until he emerged to go to the restaurant with his new...client? Business partner? Chris had no idea, and it wasn’t his business to know.
His mind kept wandering back to last night when he and Tian had returned to the apartment building. Tian had asked if he could save the desert for tonight. She’d allowed him to walk her to her door but kept her hands occupied. What was he supposed to make of that? She was the one who’d pressed her lips to his face in a tantalizing kiss, soft as a snowflake.
His phone vibrated. To his amazement, it wasn’t the Hastings app. It was the standard text messaging.
Unknown: Hey name-buddy. Javier gave me your number. I hope it is ok.
Wise move. She didn’t give out her information in case of a misdial.
Chris: I’d ask if my roommate is behaving himself... but that is pointless. I’m glad he gave you my number.
Tian: I wanted to invite you to our apartment-warming Friday night, but I’ll be en route to Hawaii.
Chris: So you invited me to a party where you won’t be, and then tell me you’ll be some place better?
Tian: Kinda. The rest of the message was that I wondered if you still wanted to do dessert tonight? I could make dinner. Today is my cooking day
.
Chris: Dinner sounds great. If everything goes to schedule, I should be off by seven. Is that too late?
Tian: No, see you then.
Chris: I’ll text if I’ll be later.
He put his phone back in his pocket and hoped that work didn’t turn any more exciting than it was at the moment.
He got his wish. At 1855, Colin Ogilvie was safely back in the residence officially ending Chris’s work day. Chris stopped at his apartment long enough to switch his suit for jeans and grab the dessert.
Brit answered the door. She buttoned her coat and slid past him. “Tian’s in the kitchen. See you later.”
He’d never seen a kitchen like this. Freezer bags, plastic food containers, and food covered every inch. Lots and lots of food. “Expecting an army?”
Tian looked up from the sauce she was ladling over manicotti in a set of containers. “No. This is my once-every-two-months cooking. Breakfast, lunch, and dinners to feed me through most of my flights.”
“I thought you were joking in Spokane about taking your food seriously.” Chris sat on a barstool that appeared to be the only empty surface.
“This is the first time in a while I’ve been able to prep this much food. I probably went overboard. Anyway, what would you like for dinner? I’ve already put the chicken-based dishes in the freezer, but I have some Hawaiian chicken and faux cordon bleu in the fridge. The Manicotti actually needs to freeze before it’s edible. I have some kolache-style beef rolls cooking in the oven. And three kinds of muffins...” She looked around the kitchen. “... crust-less mini quiche or breakfast burritos. I am about to package the Oriental chicken and broccoli, but I don’t have any rice.”
“Wow. So many choices. What is the easiest?”
“Probably the faux cordon bleu.” She set down the pan and opened the fridge. “It will just take a minute in the microwave.”
