She was still processing that when he pulled away, far too quickly in her opinion. She wanted more. So much more. Judging by the heat blazing in his eyes, so did he.
They proceeded to the checkout line where she paid for the purchases in somewhat of a daze. Her lips were still tingling, and her body was humming. It was a little scary, the things the man could make her feel with hand-holding and PG-13 kisses while surrounded by housebreaking pads and chew toys.
After loading everything in the back of his truck, they went to Franco’s.
“I hope this is okay,” he said, his hand at the small of her back as he held the door open to the restaurant.
She took a moment to breathe in the rich, spicy aromas. “It’s perfect.”
The hostess and wife of one the owners, Carmella, greeted them as if they were family—Chris, especially—and gave them a nice table in the corner.
“Looks like you’re pretty popular here.”
He shrugged. “We came in a lot before we got the dining room open.”
Yes, Kate had known about that. Everyone in Sumneyville did. “My family used to come here all the time for special occasions, like birthdays and stuff. I haven’t been in ages.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Why not?”
“My sister Kylie and my mom decided to eliminate carbs from their diets, so”—she waved her hands like a magician making something disappear—“no más.”
“Tragic.”
“My thoughts exactly. A life without pasta is hardly a life at all.”
He laughed, his dark blue eyes twinkling like a full moon reflecting on the river.
“Hey there, stranger. Haven’t seen you around lately. Where’ve you been?”
Just as quickly, the spell was broken. Chris stiffened, and those twinkling lights disappeared between one blink and the next. And for good reason.
Marietta Buschetti, Sumneyville’s resident man-eater, was standing there with her order pad, invading his personal space and looking at him as if she wanted to lick him all over. That was something that Kate understood perfectly since she wanted to do the same, but Marietta was easily ten years younger than them and Kate thought should be focusing that attention on boys her own age.
Also, he was clearly here with her—a fact Marietta failed to acknowledge. Kate didn’t consider herself the catty type, but her nails grew a few centimeters in those subsequent tense moments.
She cleared her throat and pasted on a smile. “Hi, Marietta.”
Marietta scowled at her. “Kate.” Then, Marietta’s lips curled up in an evil smirk. “How’s Luther?”
Kate wasn’t sure why she’d asked about Luther—well, yes, she was. Marietta was trying to cause trouble. But hearing her say Luther’s name sparked a sense of déjà vu. A split second later, Kate knew why. She’d heard Marietta doing so fairly recently—in the basement of the Sumneyville fire hall.
“You can probably answer that better than I can, Marietta. Did you enjoy the spaghetti dinner?”
Her eyes flashed, and Kate knew that Marietta knew that she knew.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Marietta lifted her chin and turned back to Chris, dismissing Kate once again. “So, what’s your pleasure?”
To his credit, Chris all but ignored Marietta and directed his attention to her. “What would you like, Kate?”
Oh, Kate knew exactly what she’d like. Unfortunately, bitch-slapping Marietta wasn’t on the menu. “Well, I chose last time, so it’s your turn.”
His lips quirked. “In that case, we’ll start with a pitcher of the dark lager and the appetizer sampler and then follow that up with one Alfredo and one chicken Parm with extra plates, so we can share.”
His eyes met Kate’s as he picked up her menu and handed both to Marietta.
“How’d I do?” he asked, mimicking the question she’d asked him at Andy’s.
“A-plus.”
When Marietta walked away with a scowl, he apologized. “Sorry about that.”
Kate waved her hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Marietta can be a little ... forward. Although I can understand where she’s coming from. I tend to be rather bold around you, too.”
He leaned forward and put his hand over hers. “For the record, I like when you’re bold. Tell me about this Luther.”
Whether it was the deep, resonant timbre of his voice, the stark possessiveness in his eyes, or the warmth of his hand over hers, she didn’t know, but a serious case of the tinglies erupted and settled in her girlie bits.
“Ancient history.”
Those eyes held her captive, asking questions that didn’t pass over his lips.
She exhaled. She didn’t want to spend any part of their evening together talking about Luther, but it was best to nip Marietta’s meddling in the bud.
“Luther does the books for the store. We dated once a few years ago. It didn’t work out.”
“Should I be jealous?” he asked softly, dangerously, using the same words she had in the pet store.
“Not even a little.”
She was still staring into his deep blue eyes, wondering if they could get their orders to go, when Marietta returned and plunked a pitcher down on the table, splashing the contents over their joined hands.
“Oh, sorry about that,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.
“No problem,” Chris replied.
Without a glance toward Marietta, he lifted Kate’s hand toward his lips. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to kiss it or lick it with equal anticipation. Instead, he used his napkin to clean around and between her fingers with gentle strokes. Then, he kissed her hand—and very discreetly used a bit of tongue—before wiping his own.
She might have whimpered.
Correction: by the sudden darkening of his eyes, Kate was sure she’d whimpered.
“So,” she said, summoning her senses before she crawled over the table and straddled him to get more tongue action, “you used to come here a lot, huh?”
“With the guys, yes. Of course, Sandy was here then. She usually ran interference and took care of us.”
“She’s living at Sanctuary now, isn’t she?”
He nodded but didn’t offer more details, and she didn’t ask.
Sandy Summers had been a regular subject of firehouse scuttlebutt for as long as Kate could remember, more so because of her family situation than anything she herself had done. First, Sandy’s father had had an affair and abandoned them. Then, her brother committed suicide shortly after returning from the service, and her mom got cancer. Tongues really wagged, however, when Sandy started hanging around with one of the Sanctuary guys and then suddenly left town for a designing job in New York. Her recent return had inspired a whole new set of speculative theories, each more outrageous than the last.
For what it was worth, Kate had always liked Sandy and quietly cheered for her having the guts to go after what she wanted. So few did.
It wasn’t Marietta who brought their food a short while later, but Jeannie. Jeannie Buschetti worked in the kitchen and was married to Rico, and as such, she was also Carmella’s sister-in-law and Marietta’s aunt.
“Carmella told me you were here,” Jeannie said, sliding the tray of sizzling appetizers onto their table. She looked at Chris first. “How’s our girl, Sandy? I heard what happened. Well, one version of it anyway,” she said with a frown. “I always said Dwayne Freed was trouble. Is she doing okay?”