“No, thanks.” At his disappointed expression, she laughed and extended her left leg so he could slip the bag over it. “Maybe later.”
“Uh-huh. Pathetic save.” He managed to tie it off around her calf and closed the shower door. “I’ll go start breakfast. Think you can handle it from here?” he called.
She reached for the soap. If she was careful and quick, she might be able to manage it. “Yep, I got this. Thanks.”
And she did. Sort of. She soaped and lathered and shampooed under the hot water for a few heavenly minutes. Being surrounded by steamy water redolent with Justin’s delicious soap made her feel warm and safe, and she dawdled under the spray despite her worry of a soggy bandage. His shampoo smelled woodsy, so she used it sparingly. Still, she sniffed the wet ropes of her hair more than once, remembering the nights she’d leaned across the bar to adjust his tie—he always loosened it the minute he left work—and smelled that very scent.
“Little crush, huh?” she muttered, finally making herself leave her warm haven. She pulled off the bag and then dried the bandage, pleased to discover it was only slightly damp at the edges.
She found him in the kitchen, wearing nothing but unbuttoned, faded jeans as he manned the sizzling sausage on the stove. Even his feet were bare. “Look at you, Mr. Domestic.”
He grinned. “Sit. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
Instead of sitting, she examined her surroundings. The room wasn’t big, but it was cozy. A circular table for two stood in one corner, and the butcher-block countertop in the center of the room held a cherry knife block and the ingredients for a king’s feast. Red-and-white gingham curtains framed the storybook windows, revealing the white wonderland beyond.
She rushed to the window to take in his backyard. Or what she assumed was his backyard, because snow obscured everything. “Holy fuck! There must be three feet out there.”
“Only two.”
“Did you get out your ruler?”
“Nah. We have this nifty thing now called the news.” The smirk in his voice would’ve made her jab her knuckles in his ribs if she hadn’t been so focused on the trees beyond his yard. The woods were right behind his house, bisected by the trail that even now a few diehard snowmobilers were trying to traverse. She and Rob lived—had lived—less than a mile away on the other side of the trail.
“Sausage link for your thoughts.”
She glanced up to see a gleaming brown piece of meat dangling from a fork just above her lips. She took the bite gratefully, swallowing and groaning simultaneously. “Damn, Norton, you cook like a chef too? Why don’t I just have your babies and live in sin with you for the rest of my life?”
“Why don’t you?” He replaced the fork with his mouth, and his free hand slid under his baggy T-shirt to cup her breast. “I’d happily keep you barefoot and pregnant.”
Kylie bit his tongue playfully and pulled away. It was just a joke, just as her comment had been. “I’m only barefoot because you don’t have any socks.”
“I have socks. They’re in the laundry room with your clothes from last night.” He slid his feet under hers, and she laughed as he curled his toes under her arches. “Part of my diabolical plan to remove all clothes from the house so you have no choice but to wander around naked.”
“Oh, is that it? Should’ve clued me in. I don’t mind being naked all that much.”
He nuzzled her neck, running that damn ball stud on his tongue up and down the column of her throat. “Tease.” The hand on her breast pinched her nipple. “So about those thoughts…”
A bit distracted by his dual assault, she tipped her head to give him more access. “We live on the other side of the trail. So we’re neighbors. Sort of.”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, and his fingers stilled. “You mean used to live. You’re not going back there.”
His tone smacked a little too much of possession for her taste. “I hadn’t planned on it, no,” she said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she felt. Jeez, let a guy put his hands on your body, and next thing you know, he acts like he owns you. “I have to get my stuff, but—”
“I’ll get it for you.”
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Kylie shifted out of his embrace and stalked over to the back door. She gazed out the pane of glass, surprised to see a ball of gold fluff sitting on the top step, lapping from a blue bowl of milk.
Justin joined her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s Cody. I feed him outside because he won’t come in the house. He enjoys his freedom.”
“Even in this much snow?”
“Some things won’t be caged.” He shrugged and met her gaze when she risked a sideways glance at him. “I’m okay with giving space.”
Because she wasn’t sure if he was talking about the cat or her, she bit her lip and stayed silent.
After a minute he went back to the stove. She heard him chopping and dicing and the sizzle of oil. The scents of ham and green pepper filled the air. But she didn’t look back at him, and she didn’t make conversation. She gnawed on her ragged thumbnail and watched Cody, at least until a ding from the countertop took her attention.
“Get that, would you?”
“Uh, sure.” She walked over to the stainless steel box with the glowing red light on top. Seeing no Off button, she unplugged it from the wall and tried to figure out how to lift the lid. Once she’d slipped a nail under the front latch, she raised the top and sucked in a hot, yeasty breath. “Bread.” Her eyes actually watered as she glimpsed the thick, dark loaf. “Oh, God, you made bread.”
“Pumpernickel. Goes well with the sausage and omelets. Which are ready, by the way. Plates are in the cupboard above the counter.” He gestured with his shoulder, and she went to grab two bright blue stoneware plates and matching mugs for the coffee he’d set to brew.
By the time the table was set and the food put in front of her, she was beginning to think she hadn’t even scratched the surface of Justin Norton.
She ate as wolfishly as the cat had for the first few minutes, in between long sips of the most decadent coffee she’d ever tasted. “I’ll throw away my birth control pills,” she declared after she’d devoured half the omelet. “We’ll fuck like bunnies.”
“Half that statement’s true at least.” Grinning, Justin ripped off a hunk of bread and dragged it through the cheese from the omelet before feeding it to her across the table. “I’m guessing you like my cooking.”
She nipped his fingertips to make him laugh. “I like everything about you pretty much. Especially since you’re like a big bag of secrets. I thought I knew you, but nope, apparently not. Compared to you, I’m an open book with nearly blank pages.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I never would’ve guessed innocent Kylie Fisher knew all about sex toys.”
“There’s probably quite a few I don’t know about.” She bit into a sausage link with relish. “And there’s definitely things I never got into. Serious BDSM, for one. Don’t come near me with a cane or I’ll claw your eyes out.”
“Duly noted.” Lips twitching, he picked up a forkful of eggs. “No latent submissive tendencies?”