32. Teddy
TEDDY DROPPED A SLAB OF BUTTER INTO HER TOFFEE-MAKING pot. She needed to finish ten pounds of toffee before tomorrow. Jack tapped on the back door and stepped in.
“I’m making toffee.”
“Let me help.” Jack stood behind her, peering over her shoulder as she stirred the melting butter. “Smells good.” He pressed against her.
“Careful, this is hot.” She added sugar to the pot.
Jack slid his hands down her bare arms until he reached her hands on the end of a tall wooden spoon. He gently moved the stick in circles.
“Slowly. If you go too fast, you’ll cool the butter.”
“We wouldn’t want to cool down, would we?”
“You’re full of innuendo.”
Vapors scented with caramel rose from the pan as the mixture came to a boil. Jack touched his lips to the back of her neck, Teddy still stirring the toffee. Jack’s breathing grew faster, as did her heart. The ingredients in the pan roiled into syrupy bubbles that turned yellow, then amber. Their hands stirred in a steady perfect rhythm.
“How will you know when the toffee is done?” Jack moved his lips to her shoulder and gently bit her skin.
A ripple of pleasure ran down her arm. “When the syrup turns a dark amber, almost as dark as Guinness, about twelve minutes.” She placed the spoon on a hot plate.
With the force of Jack’s hips against hers, and his torso against her back, they’d become one person. Jack moved his lips to her other shoulder.
“I need to check the temperature, if you’ll give me a hand back.”
“Never. I could do this all day.” Jack spun Teddy around and kissed her.
Jack moved his hand onto her bare back then wound around to her stomach. An urge pulsed from within, and a moan escaped from her mouth. All the wants she’d submerged deep inside bubbled to the surface in a flurry of sensations, drowning any thought of her breaking away.
The faint smell of a dirty oven wafted in the air. Jack raised her onto the counter. He stepped between her legs and wrapped his strong arms around her, stripping her of all her sensibilities. Her mind had gone and left her body unattended. One more kiss. Don’t let this moment end.
A swirl of smoke blew across her face. Teddy raised her eyes to Jack’s. With his eyes closed, Jack’s mouth danced over her lips. She lost herself in his touch.
The acrid smell of burnt butter hit her nostrils. Too late to save the candy now. She gave into one more kiss, then another.
Smoke billowed into the kitchen, stinging her eyes. She pulled away from Jack. Coughing, she wiggled free from Jack and turned off the stove.
“Overdone?” Jack waved the smoke away. “Now, where were we?”
“We’ve ruined ten pounds of toffee.”
“Let’s ruin some more.” Jack squeezed her close then gave her neck a playful bite.
She wanted to leave everything right now, even this ginormous pan of toffee, and spend the night kissing him, but the smell of smoke permeated the room—not a good aroma for a candy shop.
“You’re scrubbing this pan.” She handed him an apron.
“Why me? As I recall, you participated in the fun.”
“Point taken.” She scraped the bottom of the pot with a wooden spoon and pulled out a glob of toffee black as tar on the beach.
“It’s probably still good.” Jack reached for a strand.
“Careful, it’s hot.” She moved the spoon away.
“You’re hotter than a pan of burnt toffee.”
She considered the tarry mess on her spoon and shook her head.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s kind of funny. The look on your face when you saw that smoke.” He screwed up his face.
“And then . . .” She laughed so hard she let out a snort. “We just kept on kissing.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Jack doubled over laughing so hard that tears pooled in his eyes, too. “Did you just snort?’
“You’re hearing things.”
“No, I heard a snort.” Jack pointed at her, still laughing.
“We’ve got to stop. My sides are killing me. We’ve got a mess to clean up, toffee to make, and Dot’s wedding is tomorrow.” Teddy threw Jack a pot scrubber.