Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chris stopped in his tracks, eyes wide when he entered the kitchen.
A country music song was blasting from the radio while Rory belted out the words, using a spatula as her microphone.
Bear was on his hind legs hopping and howling along as Rory swayed her hips side to side, then threw her free hand into the air and hollered out what sounded like the song Born Here Live Here Die Here.
She grinned but just kept on singing when Chris spotted her. No, she wasn’t the least bit shy or embarrassed he’d caught her during her performance. “Luke Bryan,” she tossed out with another smile as Bear came running to his side, urging him to join the fun.
“Okay, boy.” Why not? He grabbed another spatula and stood before Rory, doing his best to follow along with the words, and though he was only mouthing them, he was completely butchering the song, but it had Rory laughing, which was well worth this moment.
“You always put on a show while you prepare dinner?” he asked when Rory set the spatula back into the pan of meat sauce she was cooking for a spaghetti dinner, which made the Italian part of him happy.
His Italian background had come from his mom’s side, and it was about all he was grateful he’d inherited from her.
“I dance and cook when one of my favorite guys is singing.” She stirred the sauce, and Bear trotted over to his new water bowl. Rory had found the upside-down cowboy hat bowl online and had it overnighted her first day in town.
“Favorite guys, huh?” He dipped a finger into the sauce, half-expecting she’d swat his hand like his grandmother on his dad’s side always did when he was a kid and tried to sneak a taste of her cooking. “Delicious.”
“Special recipe.” Rory pointed to a spice bottle on the counter labeled “Special Shit” and smiled.
Chris barked out a laugh. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter by the stove, wanting a better look at her. “So, what other guys do you like? Kenny Chesney? Blake Shelton?” He called up to mind some of A.J.’s favorites. “Chris Stapleton?”
Rory set the spatula down and shifted to face him, now only inches away. Those inches felt like miles when he wished there was no distance at all.
“All of the above. What kind of music do you like?” She reached up and placed a hand to his chest. “This is a make-or-break moment, just so you know. No pressure.” The laughter canceled out the serious expression on her face and in her hazel eyes.
“Oh?” His heartbeat ramped up the moment she touched him.
The last two days had been tough. He was unsure what to do or say about the conversation they’d had in the middle of the night Tuesday.
He’d never opened up to anyone, so he was in new territory with zero clue how to act.
And, of course, there was the kiss. The kiss that obliterated all other kisses.
The kiss that made him wonder if maybe he wouldn’t be forever single.
But Chris still couldn’t believe he’d pointed a gun at her. He mentally cringed at the memory. And although he liked having a weapon within reach beneath his bed, he’d locked it up. He couldn’t take the chance of another incident.
It’d been easier to get through the day yesterday with A.J. and Elaina over, but they were on their own tonight.
And those outfits she wore while training would be his undoing.
She’d had her cowgirl boots and hat on again today like yesterday while they’d been working with Bear, who was making excellent progress.
At some point, they’d have to breach the topic of the kiss. He was waiting for her to do it first. Give her some space. Let her process what had happened. Decide if his baggage was too much to handle.
But watching her dancing and singing in his kitchen, jamming to country music with Bear, didn’t make the wait all that easy on him.
“So, you should remember that I grew up in Boston when EDM was popular, so that’s still in my blood. You know, the DJs of the nineties. Paul Oakenfold, Danny Tenaglia, John Digweed, a little Frankie Knuckles, or Carl Cox. Paul van Dyk, Bad Boy Bill, Daft Punk, Armin van—”
“It’s not like you had that list prepared or anything?” Her lip momentarily caught between her teeth, and he blinked a few times at the seductive look she was shooting him, trying to remember what they’d been talking about.
She removed her hand from his heart as he lifted his palms in an exaggerated fashion. “What can I say? My side hustle used to be spinning for college parties while I was still in high school.”
“You, a DJ? Does A.J. know you could steal his thunder? I heard he loves to DJ parties.”
“Nah, I let him have his fun.”
“Of course you do.” She broke the spaghetti strands in half and put them into the pot of boiling water. “You still listen to electronic dance music?”
“Sometimes. But I haven’t actually touched a turntable in years.” He grabbed the dishes from the cabinet and began setting the small four-person table. “Are you only into country music?”
“I like a variety of music, but maybe I’ll have to look up some of those names you mentioned and give them a try.”
“Well, country’s starting to grow on me,” he tossed out over his shoulder.
“Right,” she said, dragging the word out the same way A.J. always did.
He turned around to find her only inches away yet again. This time, those inches felt like seconds to another kiss. Time and distance became all mixed up in his head when he thought of her mouth sealed to his.
She wet her lips, eyes dipping briefly to his mouth, before curving at the edges.
“I love this song,” they both said at the same time when the song had switched over to Jason Derulo, Savage Love.
“Jinx,” he added with a wink, then turned to catch his breath.
He maneuvered around to wash his hands in the sink, a distraction so he wouldn’t grab her.
Pin her to his body. Kiss her like she’d never been kissed before for a second time.
And he wasn’t overly confident or cocky in thinking that.
Their kiss the other night was a kiss like he’d never experienced, and the dreamy look on Rory’s face when they broke apart told him she’d felt the same way.
He pinned his back to the counter and crossed his arms once again while the dinner cooked, trying to untangle his emotions, figure out what he was feeling. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it, but when the timer went off, his mouth stretched into a yawn.
“Am I that boring?” She hip-checked him before draining the pasta. “You already took a nap, so you can’t be that tired.”
“I didn’t nap. And you could never bore me.” He probably said those statements in the wrong order.
“You were passed out on the couch with Bear earlier. Ball cap covering your face, and he was snoring on your lap.” Her eyes moved from the pasta to his face—such beautiful eyes.
“Oh, that.” He pressed his lips together, brows drawn in a playful manner. “Nah, I was just doing some thinking. You didn’t wear us out so much during training that I passed out.”
“Ha, sure,” she said while serving the food, and he set two beers on the table.
They sat at the table and fell into easy conversation, getting to know each other a bit more.
Rory made him laugh with stories of growing up in Alabama surrounded by the five Hawkins siblings, and he shared some of his BUD/S experiences.
But she never delved too deep and only briefly mentioned her years of treasure hunting, which had him a little disappointed.
Although, he supposed that just because he’d opened up to her didn’t mean she had to do the same.
“So,” he said between bites of spaghetti, which was really damn good, “what do you like to do for fun when you’re not working with animals, finding treasure, or dancing while cooking?”
“I haven’t had much time to do anything, to be honest.” She pushed the spaghetti around on her plate but didn’t take a bite. “Before I moved back to the U.S., I was always on the go. Focused on work.” Her mouth tightened as if regretting her choice of words.
What kind of work?
Rory looked up from twirling the strands of her spaghetti with her fork and spoon. “Adventure, artifacts, and animals. Four P’s in training and three A’s in my life.”
But who’d want to kill you? That’s what he’d been dying to find out, but if he pressed on that hot-topic issue, would she run? Would she leave him before he got a chance to see what was even happening between them? “Sounds like you’ve had a great life.”
Her focus fell back to her half-eaten food. “It was great, but it’s definitely gotten more interesting in the last week.”
He lifted his head and smiled. “You don’t say?”
“There’s a guy. A funny, kind, incredible guy that has certainly made an impression on me, that’s for sure.”
“There’s a brilliant, compassionate, and amazing woman I know, too. And she’s most definitely rocked my world,” he confessed in response, but when her broad smile dissolved, his stomach clenched.
The air in the room shifted. He could practically feel the weight of it bearing down on him, the precursor to a conversation that could only end badly. His body had gone from relaxed to tense and on edge faster than his thoughts could catch up to the sudden change in atmosphere.
“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
And boom went the dynamite. Damn. But as long as she didn’t announce their kiss had been a bad idea and could never happen again, he could handle almost anything she threw his way. Well, maybe.
Her eyes focused on her plate as she moved her hand from the bottle she held, reached into her pocket, and produced a small piece of folded yellow paper. She was nervous, and brownies aside, the woman didn’t seem to get all that nervous.
Chris sat taller in his chair across from her, his pulse picking up as he waited for her to speak.
She set the paper on the table beneath her palm, and he took a moment to steel his own nerves.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you told me Tuesday night.”