Love and Other Trials

Chapter 7

SEVEN

Was she a terrible person for wanting to be alone with Dax tonight?

Probably. But as they arrived at the resort and he came around to her side of the golf cart after Sherlock jumped out behind him, hand extended to help her out, she realized she had a serious chance to have fun with a great guy this week.

She was not going to let this opportunity pass her by.

Then she spotted her mother’s husband coming toward them with his golf clubs. He was wearing blue and white checkered pants with a blue polo and a matching golf visor over his perfectly dyed blond hair. Trey inclined his chin. “Hey, Ariel! Your mother said you were getting a wig today because your haircut is so unfortunate. You still doing that weather girl thing? That’s the perfect golf cart for a spot on the news.”

She gritted her teeth as Dax froze beside her.

“Hi, Trey! Yes, you can see me on the six o’clock news every night.”

Dax swung his head her way as Sherlock gave a low howl. “What the?—”

“Just smile,” she said through clenched teeth, grateful when he continued past them toward his Mercedes. “My mother’s current love interest. I don’t know how he got it in his head that I’m the weather girl, but after correcting him twice, I gave up.”

“That’s— I’ll refrain from saying what I’m really thinking. I didn’t meet that guy the other night when I met your mom. So, that’s Trey. All Rob said about him was that he was a big golf enthusiast.”

“He’s keeping my two brothers-in-law busy on the golf course this week, so I’m grateful. Morris and Bartlett are about as annoying as Trey.”

“Wonderful, birds of a feather flock together, huh? Sorry, that was awful of me.”

She laid her head against his strong, warm arm. “Don’t worry about it. They don’t help their case. I have an idea! How about we skip out and have dinner at one of my favorite spots before we have a game of wig-pong?”

He tipped up her chin, his finger giving the underside a sweet little caress. “We still playing for kisses?”

The very thought had her heart doing backflips and giving the cheer, Yes, let’s go. “If you promise to check the area for gators so we won’t be interrupted again,” she bandied back. “I can’t handle another aborted effort.”

His green eyes turned hot. “Me either. Ariel?—”

“Aunt Ariel!”

“Aunt Ariel.”

She turned as Marshall and Ripp sprinted toward them, bad intentions in their squinty little eyes. “Run. Now.”

“I never abandon my post,” he shot back, stepping forward and holding his arms out. “Slow down, boys. Your aunt and Sherlock just got back here after a long day. Give them a second to settle in.”

“Mom says I can take the golf cart out,” Marshall informed her, his punky nose sticking up in the air. “Give me the keys.”

God, would these kids never learn manners? Please and thank you weren’t stressed by the Three Tornadoes. When Ariel had tried to correct their rudeness, she’d been told to butt out and stop trying to parent other people’s kids. That had been enough to keep her from pointing anything out when it came to her nephews. “You have a license, Marshall?”

Ripp grabbed on to the cart’s overhead bars, treating them like they were monkey bars. “Ah, come on, Aunt Ariel, it’s only a golf cart.”

“Rules are rules.” That didn’t make her a cool aunt, sure, but she’d never have that rep with these boys. “And you leave Sherlock in peace. I don’t want you chasing him. Understand me?” Keeping them from teasing Sherlock was the only time she schooled their behavior, but he was her dog, which was rather like a baby in her mind.

Marshall only rolled his eyes at her while Ripp pulled himself up onto the golf cart and hung from the bars. Sherlock stood at attention at her side, watching them carefully.

“Boys, your aunt is talking to you,” Dax said in that military command voice she found so hot.

Marshall’s chin lifted defiantly. “We heard you. Fine. We won’t bother Sherlock. But can you take us for a ride?”

“Yeah, can you?” Ripp pleaded.

“This golf cart is not for joy riding.” If she gave an inch, they’d be all over her for the rest of the week, being as demanding as her sisters. “Ask your parents to rent an ATV and bring y’all somewhere.”

“Mom doesn’t do anything but obsess about the wedding.” Marshall kicked at the ground. “I could jump in the ocean and drown, and she wouldn’t notice.”

Ariel laid a hand on his shoulder, knowing that probably wasn’t far from the truth. She’d felt the same way about her mother. “What about asking Rob? From what I remember at Thanksgiving, he liked to be outdoors.”

Marshall’s mouth thinned and he pushed away from her, fisting his hands at his sides. “I’m not asking him. Come on, Ripp.”

“Yeah, we know you didn’t want to stay with us,” Ripp called out as he jumped down from the golf cart. “You’re staying with him.”

They were running off before she could open her mouth to reply. “Wow! I…didn’t expect to get judgment over my rooming options from my own nephews. Dammit, sometimes the Three Tornadoes make me want to pull my hair out. Those boys didn’t need to know that. Now they think it’s them when it’s not… Shit.”

Dax turned her toward the house after grabbing the bags from the back. “There’s more going on there than you not babysitting a bunch of boys. Marshall thinking his mom wouldn’t notice him drowning is alarming. I knew he was having a tough time with all the changes from what Rob had said, but that beats all. I can’t imagine ever thinking something like that about my mom.”

She walked quickly with him down the path, not wanting to run into anyone else. “I felt that way sometimes. God knows, I want to like those boys, but they’re brats. Have been since they were little. All of them. I call them the Lord of the Flies boys. I wish I could say his behavior was just Marshall being upset about having a new stepfather and moving away from Pensacola and his friends.”

“Yeah, Rob said his new orders didn’t go over well, whereas Tiffany can’t wait to get to San Diego. She thinks it’s going to be posher. Clearly, she hasn’t seen military housing.”

Not her concern. Her goal was the wedding coming off in spectacular fashion. Marshall wasn’t her responsibility either, and even if she were inclined to be more present with him, Tiffany would bite her head off for any interference. Plus, he could do no wrong. Her sisters were fond of saying, “boys will be boys.” Ariel thought they took the saying too far.

They were closing in on Dax’s cottage when she heard “Ariel!”

Mother. God help her, but she increased her pace, Sherlock hurrying beside her. “Let’s get inside. You can say I had to pee. She’s going to grill me about the wig.”

Dax pushed the key card into her hand and gave her a gentle push toward the cottage. “You run this time. I’ll handle her. Stormy!”

When he pulled up, she kept going with her dog, telling herself she was not a child or a coward. She did technically have to pee. When she hit the cottage, she unleashed Sherlock and headed straight to the bathroom. If she took longer than necessary and washed her hands like ten times—she had been around fish, a gator, and gunpowder, not to mention someone else’s hair—it wasn’t the end of the world.

“You can come out now,” Dax called a few minutes later when she was soaping her hands up for the third time. “Coast is clear.”

When she emerged from the bathroom, her fingers were tingling from her little hand spa moment. She found him in the open kitchen pouring water into two glasses. He handed one to her when she joined him.

She winced as she lifted her glass. “How did it go?”

He bared his teeth, grimacing. “Well, knowing your mother wants to entice me because I’m a man gives me the upper hand.”

She choked on her water.

“So when I assured her this wig looked so much better on you in person than the other one, she gave me that slow smile of hers and patted me on the arm. I said you had a wedding contractor you needed to call before six, so she said she’d catch up with you later. I hated lying, but we’re in enemy territory. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Yes, Captain, we are.” She pressed the cold glass against her hot forehead. “Do you still want to get out of here?”

“Like now?” He drank the rest of his water down. “Sure. I should drop by and check in with Rob. Don’t really want to, but maybe I can make things easier for both of us. Is there anyone I can say we’re meeting tonight as cover?”

“Satan,” she quipped. “Oh, wait. He’s probably around here somewhere.”

Dax snorted out a laugh, tipping her chin up. “God, you’re a riot. I didn’t know that before. Probably a good thing. I would have thought about you even more.”

She felt her mouth slowly fall open. “You really thought about me before we met?”

“Sure. I imagined meeting you and what you’d be like.” His finger grazed over her jaw, lighting a trail of fire. “How you’d smile. What we’d talk about. I suppose I should have guessed you’d be funny after you made that garlic comment, except now I know it wasn’t totally a joke.”

She shifted a little closer to his warm body, aware of the broadness of his chest under his white T-shirt. The smell of warm man reached her, making her give a little sigh. “Right. Thanks for the reminder. We should buy garlic tonight. I think it’s our duty, Stephan. To save the world.”

He cupped her cheek, and she rose onto her tiptoes with a smile on her face, sensing what was next. God, she was more than ready.

“Whatever you say, Elizabeth.” His husky voice liquified her bones. “Whatever you say.”

His head descended, those brilliant green eyes never leaving hers. She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the strength there, the heat. His arm came around her waist, making her belly tense. God, he was taking his time watching her, heightening the desire growing between them. She kept her eyes on his, watching him right back. The heat and promise she saw there had her biting her lower lip. Her pulse went erratic, and her thighs clenched.

Kiss me, dammit!

Sherlock barked. Ariel jumped back, nearly stumbling. Dax’s hand caught her. Muffled laughter reached her ears, making her look around.

Dax’s mouth twisted as he jerked his head to the right, peering out the window. “Ten o’clock. Jesus, we’re going to need to close the blinds.”

Spotting the little Peeping Toms, she reached for patience. They’d almost been caught kissing by her nephews? How great was that? “Privacy isn’t respected in my family.”

“I’ll make sure to lock the doors even when we’re tucked in the house. I don’t usually keep my doors locked. Maybe it’s being on base or a carrier, but I’m not used to it.”

“It’s good to be a guy,” was all she said as she heaved out a frustrated breath.

Dax strode over to the window where the boys were peering in—Marshall and Ripp pressed near the front of the group. “Boys,” he called through the window, “last I heard, spying into people’s houses was illegal. Y’all move along. Now. And don’t let me catch you doing it again.”

She crossed over and watched them run off, yelling like banshees. “Why do I suddenly feel cornered?”

He lowered the blinds and closed them. “Because you know they’ll talk. Now, I’m really ready to get out of here for the evening. I’ll text Rob and check in.”

She pressed her hands to her temples while he did that, where a dull throb was starting. “If I thought we could get away with staying at my grandma’s house on Folly Beach, I would have us both pack up and leave now. But I need to be on-site, according to Tiffany, and traffic can be a nightmare.”

He set his phone down and put his hands on her shoulders, massaging the tension there. “We’ll get through this, Ariel. I promise. Don’t let those boys bother you.”

She made a face. “I actually miss Bumper.”

“Me too.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the front door. “But don’t worry. We’re going to kiss. When I set my sights on a target, there’s no stopping me.”

Oh, that was so sexy. She liked the shift in conversation. “Am I in your sights, Captain Hotpants?”

“You’d better believe it, honey. Now grab your purse and anything else you need. What about Sherlock? Does he need to be fed?”

Ariel glanced over at the bloodhound. He was standing at attention, peering at the door. Playing guard dog after the boys’ peeping. “I always carry something for him in my purse, but where we’re going, he’s going to be well taken care of. Just you wait.”

Dax flashed her a grin. “Race you to the Bronco.”

“You’re on.”

With Sherlock in the lead, they made it there, both of them breathless, but since she hadn’t seen any of her family on the way, she was feeling great. Revived. As much from the way Dax was looking down at her as from the short run.

The pull between them was palpable, and all she could think of was their two aborted kisses. No way she was coming back here unkissed. She’d let things take their course, but if it hadn’t happened by the time they headed back to the resort, she was taking him to a romantic spot along the water and getting it done. She needed his mouth on her. Stat.

“Let’s get a move on.” His usually deep voice was rough with desire. “If we get caught again, I might lose my mind.”

“Me too.”

She caressed his bicep before he opened her car door and the back for Sherlock. She hopped inside and was still buckling her belt when he joined her. Sherlock gave a low ruff, gazing out the windshield. “Where we going, honey?”

Oh, how his sugary endearments lit her up inside. “To a little shack along the water that serves up the best fried food around. You like fried okra, baby ?”

Her equally teasing drawl had him skimming a hand on her bare knee as he turned the car on and put it in reverse. “As much as I like shrimp and grits and cornbread. I don’t eat fried food all that often, but when it’s around, you won’t find a happier man.”

She rubbed her hands in delight. “Then you’re going to love Kaz’s.”

When they reached the old blue and white shack with the expanded outdoor porch along the water, she felt her shoulders come down from her ears. Here she could relax. Dax hurried around her side of the Bronco to open her door, but she was already opening it.

He gave her a pointed look as she sat back down. “How about letting me be the gentleman and treat you right? I know it didn’t come together like a date, but I’d like to officially change that.”

God, could he be any cuter? “I’m up for that.”

He cleared his throat and held out his hand gallantly. “Elizabeth, would you like to go out with me?”

She fanned herself theatrically before taking his hand. “Why Stephan, are you asking me on a date?”

The waning sun shot rays of gold into his sandy hair, making him a dreamboat in one of those old beach movies she loved to watch on late night. “Yes. Would tonight work? Kaz’s?”

“It’s one of my favorite places.” The strength of his hand had her curling her fingers in his. “Seven?”

He checked his watch. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up.”

Then he shut the door on her with another sexy wink, and she laughed as he disappeared from view only to reopen the door again. Sherlock gave a quiet ruff as he watched them, his head swiveling to take in their theater. Okay, they were being silly, but it was fun. Plus, all her trials seemed far away. Like as far as Bali.

“Here we are.” He gestured grandly to the place as he helped her out of the car before letting Sherlock out. “Would you like to sit outside or inside on this fine night?”

She could already feel the humid air on her skin and smell the ocean. “Outside.”

“Perfect.”

He was the one who looked perfect with the stubble on his jaw and the way his shoulders seemed to go on forever. Then there were those endless eyes taking her in…

“By the way, you look beautiful, Elizabeth.”

His deep voice practically pulsed with intimacy, making her pluck at the fabric of her skirt. While she was more than presentable for a place like Kaz’s, she wished she’d dressed up a little more for their date. “Thank you, Stephan. So do you.”

“My beauty routine is legendary.” Turning, he pointed to his backside. “Like my buns.”

She sputtered out laughter but truthfully wouldn’t mind if he kept modeling that fabulous ass all night long. “I can see why. My goodness, what it does to this little heart of mine.”

He snagged her arm, laughing himself. “Come on. Let’s get a drink and some chow.”

At the door, he did the whole gentleman thing again. Once inside, she took a deep inhale of fried food, onions, and beer—all homey smells.

The waitress with the stringy gray hair slapped the menu she was carrying against the counter when she spotted them. “Why, Ariel Holmes! I heard you were in town for Tiffany’s wedding. How are the Three Bitches treating you?”

She hugged Maybelline hard as Dax choked out a laugh. “It’s the Three Tornadoes, as you well know, and about like always if I’m being truthful. They’re even insisting I wear a wig for the wedding.”

Maybelline touched her hair softly, gray brows slamming together. “Why in God’s name would they do that? You have perfectly beautiful hair.”

“Too short for them.” She pointed to her chin and ears. “These horrible things might also show in the wedding photos.”

“Land sakes.” Maybelline pressed a hand to her forehead before shaking her weary head. “That sounds like Stormy talking. The original bitch. You’re missing your grandma, I expect.”

A blast of emotion rolled through her as Dax took her hand and squeezed it. “Hard not to. She was a great lady.”

“Yeah, she sure was.” Maybelline reached down and gave Sherlock a good rub behind his ears. “We miss seeing her around here too. This your fella?”

Ariel glanced up at Dax and punched his shoulder playfully. “For tonight.”

Dax didn’t miss a beat. Grinning, he said, “Maybe even tomorrow if I’m real good.”

Maybelline’s laughter was like gunfire. “I’ve been married for thirty-two years and I still tell my hubby there’s no guarantee he’s going to get lucky. The key to a happy marriage is keeping them on their toes. Men want to work for it. Hi, I’m Maybelline.”

She thrust her hand out to Dax, and he let go of Ariel to shake it. “Stephan. Nice to meet you.”

His use of his fake name had her fighting laughter. “Maybelline, we need a drink. And then some hush puppies. Outside if you please.”

“Make sure you use some bug spray on yourselves.” She grabbed a well-known brand from behind the counter. “The skeeters are out tonight after the rain we had. Come on. We’ll find you a nice table and then get you that drink. After hearing about the wig, the first round is on me.”

“You’re the best.” She followed Maybelline out to a corner table and plunked herself down. “You still making the same watered-down margaritas?”

Maybelline leveled her a glare even though her mouth was twitching. “Don’t go insulting me so early, missy, especially before you order food. Gator bites might end up being in your fried chicken by mistake.”

“Poor Bumper,” Dax said mournfully as he sat across from her at the wooden table, the light from the water bringing out the gold in his hair again.

Sherlock plopped down at his feet as she held back her laughter.

“What do you want to drink, Stephan?” Maybelline asked him.

“Got any Chardonnay?”

“Chardonnay, huh?” Reaching down, Maybelline tugged lightly on Ariel’s curls. “Ariel Holmes, sometimes I think you have a screw loose.”

“He’s kidding, Maybelline.”

“I hope so for your sake.”

Laughing, he said, “I’ll settle for a beer.”

Maybelline set the bug spray on the table. “Be right back with those and some water and a treat for your sweet dog here.”

Ariel began spraying her legs before turning to her arms because God knows what treatment her mother and sisters would insist on if she came back riddled with bug bites. Her future would be full of ice packs and gallons of calamine lotion. “Want some?”

He grabbed the can and sprayed his long, muscular legs and then his powerful arms, the sight of his muscles making her heart race. “So this is a comfort spot. I can see why. The view is incredible. Maybelline seems to know your family well. Nice to have an ally of sorts.”

Ariel ran her hands over the rough wood table as she gazed out across the shimmering water. Boats were out. The tall grasses around the edges were swaying in the breeze. Everywhere she looked, it felt like home. “I’ve known Maybelline since I was taking my first steps when we visited my grandma. I think she gave me my first hush puppy.”

“Makes sense. You probably didn’t have any teeth. I’ll bet you were adorable.”

She struck a pose, wishing her mother had thought so. But no, her mother had kept a knit cap on her, thinking her ears stuck out. “Adorably adorable. That was me. All right, enough of that. Let’s get down to brass tacks, as you soldiers like to say.”

“Says who?” he bandied back, looking every bit a relaxed and hot as hell man.

All she wanted to do was stare, but her stomach rumbled. Picking up the menu Maybelline had left, she thrust it out. “I’ve had everything on this menu more than once. Some things are better than others. If you promise to be a sweetheart tonight, I’ll tell you my faves.”

He made the show of crossing his heart. “Scout’s honor. So what makes your taste buds sing?”

She thought about kissing him. That would certainly make her taste buds sing. Later. Please God. “In this order. Fried okra. Fried pimento balls?—”

“I’ve never been sure about those, to be honest.”

She could already taste them. “Trust me. They’re freaking delicious. Pimento cheese spread is part of the food pyramid in Charleston. You’ll see it everywhere.”

“I’m game.” He leaned his elbows on the table, his complete attention on her. “What else?”

“Fried oysters. Fried chicken. Fried flounder.”

He gave a studious look, stroking the sexy stubble on his jaw. “I sense a theme. So you’re suggesting anything fried.”

“You bet your cute little buns, I am. Fried is the way to go here.”

A splash came from the water below, and Dax turned to look down as Sherlock rose up and wandered over to check things out, tail up. She knew what that meant.

“I believe Bumper’s relations have come to visit.” She peered over the deck and raised her hands in a theatrical show of horror. “Quick. Say ‘gator bites’ three times. It usually makes them go away.”

He snorted but eased his chair farther away from the railing. “Does not. If a gator isn’t going to respect the moment when a man wants to kiss a woman, he isn’t going to run from hearing ‘gator bites.’ Probably because it’s what he does. Gator bites. Not really intimidating.”

She choked on a laugh. “You’re completely right. Whoever named that dish was an idiot.”

“Exactly.” He turned back to her, leaning on the table, clearly flirting. “Now… Since we’re on a date, shall we go through the requisite questions?”

She clapped her hands. “Yes, please. Give me your best.”

He looked off into the setting sun, gold washing over his chiseled profile. “Do you prefer a long walk on the beach or a cozy book?”

“Both.”

His head swung back to her. “So that’s how it’s going to be. No either/or for my beautiful Elizabeth.”

“Why choose?” She smiled as Maybelline set Sherlock’s water on the floor before putting their drinks and steaming hush puppies down on the table. “Thanks, Maybelline.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Y’all decided what you want to eat?”

“Everything with the word fried on it,” Dax answered. “I’ve heard it’s the best on the menu.”

Maybelline waved as a squawking seagull flew overhead and landed on the roof. “Everything, huh? Honey, you know that’s a whole bunch of food, right?”

He patted his flat abs, ones Ariel knew resembled a washboard. “I can handle it, and my date here doesn’t like to choose when she can have it all.”

She grinned at him. “What can I say? A girl likes what she likes.”

“Oh, good Lord, I’ll let you two do…whatever it is you’re doing.” Maybelline backed up with her hands up before turning around.

“It is a lot of food.” She leaned closer, and he did the same, giving her his spicy, manly scent. “But I thank you for the buffet of flavors.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He folded his hands on the table, his concentration on her complete. “Now, what’s your best date question for me?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Boxers or briefs?”

He gave a mysterious grin. “Neither.”

Her belly tightened and a moan tried to rise up her throat. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.”

“You asked.” He snagged her hand from the table and clasped it in his own. “I figured you should be prepared. In case you’re the fainting type. A woman named Elizabeth strikes me as such.”

She ran her thumb over the back of his strong, muscular hand, laughing. “You are too funny, but let me assure you of one thing.”

He leaned closer. “What’s that?” The heat in his eyes only outmatched the twinkle. Oh, how much more could he make her pulse race?

“I don’t faint, Stephan, and this girl can handle whatever you want to show me.”

His brows inched up. “Noted. Let me equally assure you that I’m the same way. You could ask me to skinny-dip tonight, and I’d go.”

“Forget it!” Her cry had another table glancing over. “There are gators out there.”

His powerful shoulders shook with laughter. “How about a late-night swim in the ocean?”

She blew out an aggrieved breath. “Unfortunately, the beach ordinances here are serious. No swimming after ten o’clock. I have a feeling skinny-dipping is illegal. The fines would be substantial?—”

He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, making her feel very much like an old-fashioned Elizabeth. She rather liked it.

“I knew you were a rule follower from the moment I met you. We have that in common.”

“Guilty and not ashamed to admit it. But don’t worry. I know when to follow the rules and when to improvise. With you, I feel a compulsion toward the latter.”

Weren’t they talking like idiots? But it was so much fun. And she loved using their nicknames. It felt liberating somehow. Because Elizabeth wasn’t “The Runt” or the kid who didn’t seem like Stormy Deverell’s daughter. Or the sister of the Three Tornadoes, even if they only shared half-blood.

Elizabeth could be whomever she wanted to be.

And what she wanted, she decided, was to stretch her hands up to the deepening blue sky and dance , because she felt that good . She’d put Dax’s hands on her hips and rub herself all over him. Look up into his deep green eyes and know what was going to happen between them.

Because it was so going to happen…

She didn’t know where it would lead, but she didn’t need to. She’d learned to take life as it came. Dax was in her life right now, and she planned to enjoy the hell out of him.

“You know…” He gave the back of her hand a wicked little stroke that ignited more fires in her already achy belly. “I’m pretty good at improvising too.”

Their eyes locked. She could see the heat flash in his intense gaze. Maybe it was time to take down some of her walls, the ones she’d put up because so few of the people she’d come across had bothered to take a second look at her. So she consciously unstacked the bricks and peered out at him—and he seemed to notice.

His flirtatious smile changed. While it wasn’t as bright or wide, it was more intense. Her own mouth shifted as she let him in a little more, inviting him into the private little space inside herself. Then his mouth tipped to the right, and a new light entered his mesmerizing eyes—one she hadn’t seen before—and she felt like she’d gained something special.

He tightened his grip on her hand. “You really are beautiful,” he said, his voice strong and true in the breezy evening. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”

She went with pure honesty, the kind she only gave when she felt safe with someone, a rare feeling. “I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

His chest lifted, and he leaned back, almost as if to give them room, before shifting closer to her and tucking her hair behind her right ear. “Me either.”

The sun was setting, casting a soft glow on his face, which was already becoming both familiar and dear to her. She took in more details of it now. The elegant line of his straight nose. The strong, deep-set brow. He had a tiny scar under his jawline, and his earlobes were the kind that partially attached. His green eyes had flecks of gold and black in them, making her think of panning for gold in the days of the Gold Rush, maybe because of how strong he was. A man clearly made of courage. One who loved adventure. One who made his mark in life…

The moment stretched as they continued to study each other in the waning light. She heard the easy cadence of his breath and leaned closer to catch more of his spicy scent. He did the same, and then he was cupping her chin gently in his big, warm hand and guiding her face toward him. Their gazes locked a moment before their lips met, the touch light but still shocking. The jolt from touching him rocked her back. His hand curled around her nape, keeping their mouths joined as they learned each other in soft, easy passes with an undercurrent of urgent longing.

She couldn’t say how long the kiss went on. All she knew was that his lips were warm and firm and that he kissed her like he’d been waiting to do it his whole life. Even then, there was no impatience in his touch. It was perfect, and she found herself wishing there wasn’t a table between them.

Sherlock gave a low ruff, and she eased back. Maybelline was coming toward the table with a platter of steaming fried food and a few treats for Sherlock.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d prefer your food hot.” She set both plates down. “You can always smooch later.”

The waitress cackled as she walked away after patting Sherlock’s head and giving him a soup bone, leaving them staring at each other.

“Well, Elizabeth…” His voice was rough and deep and made her thighs clench.

“Well, Stephan,” she answered because she didn’t know what exactly to say.

How did one make sense of a kiss that seemed to make the world brighter? She’d never experienced its like before.

“Shall we eat?” he asked, handing her a table setting.

She took it, knowing he’d seen the shaking of her hands. Channeling her alter ego, she found the right response. “Eat? No, I say we feast tonight.”

The word seemed appropriate.

For once in her life, Ariel Holmes had everything she could ever want, and she was going to savor every minute.