She might also figure out how to pull down that ladder so she could check out the storage space up over the ceiling.
She got back in the kitchen in time to see Cannon drop angel-hair pasta atop the onions and olive oil, stir it all up and add fresh Parmesan cheese.
It smelled heavenly.
He watched her put her phone on the counter. “Heath again?”
No reason to bore him with the ugly details. “Yes, but I blocked him.” Getting out plates and refilling their glasses, she set the table. And even that, the simple act of two place settings instead of one, filled her with emotion.
Taking her by surprise, Cannon stroked her backside, murmured, “Irresistible,” then stepped around her to load up the plates. “What are you thinking about so seriously?”
Still on high alert from that casual caress and incredible compliment, she smiled at him. “I haven’t done this since I moved away.” She indicated the table. “Sitting down with someone for a home-cooked meal night after night.”
He put diced tomatoes over the pasta. “Tipton was a good cook?”
“Country cooking.” Very different from the healthy stuff Cannon preferred. “Most everything he fixed was a one-pot meal, with chicken and dumplings being his specialty.”
A gentleman to the core, Cannon pulled out her chair. “He taught you to cook?”
“Yes.” Yvette realized that having someone to talk to, especially about her grandpa, was as poignant as the cozy dinners together. “Stew, soup, sauerkraut and ribs, ham and cabbage.” She grinned. “All stuff you don’t eat.”
“All stuff I love.” He sat across from her, then stretched out his long legs so that his feet caged hers in. “Mom was a country cook, too. I took up running early in life just so she couldn’t fatten me up.”
“Bull.” For as long as she’d known Cannon, he’d been a specimen. “I’m not believing that.”
He smiled with her. “Bean soup and ham with corn bread was one of my favorites. I could finish off half the corn bread all on my own. Rissy would have a fit when she wanted seconds and it was gone.”
“When do she and her roommate get home, by the way?”
He went still, making Yvette shake her head.
“What, you thought I wasn’t paying attention? I realize you wanted to be here, so here you are. But you did have options.”
“True enough.” He watched her take a bite, then moan with pleasure. His eyes darkened. “Glad you like it.”
“It’s amazing.”
As casually as he’d stroked her rear, he said, “You’ll like me touching you, too.”
Her turn to go still—only that didn’t slow Cannon down at all.
“But if there’s anything you don’t like, I want you to tell me. Or if there’s something you especially enjoy—”
Already overheated, she interrupted him. “We were talking about your sister.”
“Safer subject, huh? Okay, I can work with that.” Watching her intently, he ate another big bite before answering. “I could have gone to Rissy’s, true, but it is her place now, not mine. I respect her privacy and with her and her roommate out of town it didn’t seem right to just make myself at home.”
“She wouldn’t welcome you there?”
“Course she would.”
“What about her roommate?”
“Cherry Peyton. I don’t know her well, but she seems nice enough. Denver might be interested, remember?”
“Yes.” Denver was definitely interested, from what she could tell.
Moving right on past that, Cannon added, “There’s always the Colonial. I’ve stayed there before.”
She gave a tight smile. “Mary expected to find you at a hotel.” And if Yvette hadn’t shown up at the bar that night, he’d have taken Mary back to his room with him.
“Forget Mary,” he said. “Forget Mindi. I wanted to be here. With you.”
Petty jealousy had never been her way. Because he was so special to her, Cannon deserved the truth. “I’m glad it worked out this way.”
He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Now, if that’s settled, let’s eat. The sooner we get done, the sooner I can get my hands on you.”
With the fork halfway to her mouth, she paused.
He glanced at the clock. “It’s early. We’ll have hours to play before bedtime. I’m already half-hard just thinking about it.” He forked up another big bite of pasta.
Lust, apparently, didn’t dent his appetite. But then, he stayed more active than any person she knew.
For her part, Yvette wanted to melt right off her seat. “You know I can’t—”
“Climax?” More gently, he said, “It’s okay. Touching, that’s all we’re going to do, remember?”
But why? Surely he’d want more than that. Just because she couldn’t didn’t mean he—
Then he finished by saying, “Tonight anyway. Eventually I’m going to want all of you.”
Thinking about it, him over her, in her, sent a sweet clench of desire into every muscle. “Okay,” she whispered.
Gaze playfully stern, he said, “But not tonight. Tonight is for touching only. Touching and kissing and going a little nuts.” He drew in a slow breath. “So finish up. I’ve tortured myself enough already.”
* * *