A Little Crazy

Chapter Four

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June 21st

“What are you making?” Drew’s voice, nearer than Nora expected, caused her to jump slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She swallowed, certain he was able to hear it. “You didn’t. I mean . . . I just wasn’t paying attention.” Nora’s hand stilled on the cutting board, the limes momentarily forgotten. The heat from his palms filtered through the thin cotton of her skirt and her eyes closed as his thumbs slipped beneath, drew small circles on her lower back.

“I just needed to grab something.” His hands lingered on her hips a moment longer, easing her over slightly to reach two glasses from the overhead cabinet. He smiled a cute half smile, his eyes meeting hers briefly as he closed the cupboard door.

Still standing closer than he needed to, he peered over her shoulder. “Salad tonight?”

“Thai chicken salad with peanuts and limes,” she answered, turning her head to see him.

He was so close, and he smelled so damn good, like soap, and sunshine and something oddly Drew-like and rugged . . . paint or the faint trace of gasoline. Just enough to remind her of his hands, and how often he worked with them.

Her nose brushed his jaw, the rough texture of his unshaven face abrasive against her skin. She leaned into him slightly, her lips mere inches from his neck. He swallowed and she was unable to look away, hypnotized by the way his Adam's apple moved and the muscles flexed along his throat. Her breath caught as he pressed into her, her body now trapped between his and the counter. She felt his lips move to her hair, that simple chaste gesture more intimate than any heated kiss she’d ever experienced.

“You want this?” he questioned, his voice low and the sound reverberating through his chest. She tilted her chin toward him, the movement bringing her mouth to his jaw. She brushed her lips from side to side, enjoying the coarse texture against her skin, and pressed the softest kiss there.

The persistent beep of the kitchen timer filled the air, pulling her from the moment. He exhaled deeply and pushed away from the counter, her body feeling the loss instantly.

 "Why do you come back here?” she asked, catching her breath and watching as he pulled out a plate for each of them. “How long do you stay?"

"I come back here to rest, see my family, see my dentist, get all the requisite blood tests . . ."

"Blood tests?" she stopped moving and then nodded awkwardly when she understood. "Oh," she mumbled, slicing the limes.

He stepped in front of her and stilled her hand. "What does 'oh' mean?"

His face told her she misunderstood but until his voice explained, she wasn't pushing.

"It's just the smart thing to do after visiting developing countries," he urged quietly.

"No, I get it," she nodded.

She could feel him watching her as she shredded the lettuce.

"What's going on with us, Nora?" His voice was unobtrusive and calm. Too unobtrusive and too calm. She was a tornado inside, full of all of the things she couldn't keep together. She felt like everything she knew was being uprooted and thrown.

"I don't know," she whispered, willing whatever it was to stay put between them and not keep melting into another layer of tension. "Nothing?"

He leaned forward and waited until she looked at him. She knew her eyes gave it all away—every bit of desire—but also the fear she felt. Being this close to him was like standing at the lip of a canyon and knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep from leaping forward.