When he returned to the kitchen, Lupe had two bags packed. “Your dinner is ready. I added some rice and beans to the casserole. I have it on good authority Bets loves Mexican food.”

He didn’t have to ask who the authority was. Sorcha was a busy ghost. “Thanks, Lupe. I won’t be gone long.”

“Stay out all night, if you want,” she said with a knowing arch of her silver brow. “I won’t ground you if you come home after midnight.”

He snorted as he strode out of the house and headed for his Range Rover. After storing the food, he drove to Bets’. The sky out the window was full of soft pinks, flannel grays, and baby blues above acres of green pasture dotted with sheep. He rolled his window down and inhaled the country air. He’d always loved a backcountry drive, but his ticker was hammering away, knowing he would soon be seeing Bets.

Lupe’s insinuation about staying out late had put a heap of temptation in his mind, but he throttled it back. He and Bets would officially come together on Wednesday, as agreed. Surely he could make it two more days.

By the time he arrived at Bets’, he was raring to go. Did he knock or just walk in like the Irish? Presented with her front door after grabbing the food, he decided to be American and rapped twice.

When the door opened, she had a cocky smile on her face, one that had his engines purring in delight. She wore teal blue pajamas and no makeup and looked so beautiful she stole his breath.

“Well, hello there, cowboy. I was wondering who might be knocking.”

He leaned against the doorjamb. “I wasn’t sure about simply walking inside without an invitation.”

Her blue eyes flashed before she said, “Consider yourself invited from now on. I didn’t expect to see you. Obviously.”

She gestured to herself, making him aware of the line of skin peeking out from the neckline of her pajama top. He caught a sexy spattering of freckles there, and suddenly, he couldn’t wait to explore all the little treasures her body had in store for him.

“You look pretty good to me. I brought dinner. Well, Lupe made dinner, but I have an inkling she picked up on my inner turmoil and was being obliging.”

She leaned against the door, looking soft and inviting in the rosy twilight of the evening. “Turmoil?”

“I didn’t think I could go another day without seeing you.” He lifted his hand and slowly caressed the curve of her cheek. “Wednesday seemed a lifetime away.”

She made a breathy sound. “For me too. Come inside.”

“In a bit.” He set the bags down on the ground. “I can’t wait another moment to kiss you. If you’re of the same mind.”

Her hand reached out and grabbed his sports coat. “I am. Kiss me, cowboy.”

He slowly lowered his mouth until their lips met. Usually he wasn’t in a hurry. But today, a primal urge gripped him. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, her taste. Her throaty whimpers. When he finally pulled back, giving them a moment to catch their breath, she wrapped her hand around his nape and brought him back and feasted on him.

They were both panting when she released him.

“Well, now… We seem to be very much of the same mind. However am I supposed to wait until Wednesday to have you after a kiss like that?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said, touching his chest. “You could come inside—”

“If I come inside now, we won’t be having supper.” He cracked the tension in his neck, hoping it would diffuse tension in other places. “I don’t know that I have the willpower, and that’s a first for me.”

Her smile stretched her luscious mouth. “I’m flattered.”

He laughed. “You should be.”

“Truthfully, I’m finding it difficult to imagine trying to have a regular conversation right now over supper. You’d think we would have a ton to talk about, especially with the arts center.”

“Only none of that is on our minds just now.” He gave in to the urge to trace the underside of her jaw. “We’ve got the whole talking and friendship thing down. Now that we’ve agreed to give in to our passion for each other, I can’t seem to think of anything else.”

She made a sexy sound as she shifted her head to give him more access to the slender line of her neck. “Me either. I swear I momentarily forgot the name of the architect who agreed to design the museum for us.”

“Who?” he quipped, making her laugh. “Well, I figure I should be going, seeing as we can’t see straight. Bad wording. You enjoy Lupe’s famous green chile chicken enchiladas, beans, and rice.”

Her mouth parted. “That’s my favorite! When I lived in Baltimore, I used to go to a little Tex-Mex restaurant close to Inner Harbor for their enchiladas. How did you know?”

His hair stood up on end. There was no way he was telling her about Sorcha. First, she might think him nuts. Second, what kind of pressure did that put on them? Surely there was a third reason, but his brain went blank as she ran a finger down his chest in the most provocative of ways. “Stop that! Lupe was the one who cooked it, remember? I’m glad you like it. Now, I’m going to go on home and savor the taste of your lips.”