She pulled back a little, her arm folding across her chest to cover the tips of her breasts. Her feet hit the ground and he leaned down, feeling around for her shirt on the floor. She slipped her arms through the straps, wiggling it over her head as he leaned over and turned on the lamp beside her. Her hair was disheveled, and her lips were just a little puffy.
He groaned, wondering how he was going to make it through tonight if she didn’t want—didn’t need—what he was hoping for.
“All night, huh?”
She gave him a half-smile, flicking her eyes to his waist, to below his waist where they rested for a moment with amusement before returning to his face. She bit her upper lip, trying not to grin and failing wildly.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, looking down at the prominent bulge in his jeans, then back up at her teasing face. “Yeah, that’s the way it is. You’re killing me, Jane.”
“Sorry. I got carried away.” She stepped away from the couch, and stopped trying not to grin. She beamed at him. “Self-control, my fine Swedish friend. I’m barely in the door and we’ve already gotten…distracted.”
He leaned back from her, crossing his arms over his chest and couldn’t help but notice how her eyes widened as she stared at his chest. Her mouth opened slightly and she licked her lips, her face concealing nothing. “I—I mean…sorry for staring. That is just…unreal.”
Lars chuckled, raising his eyebrows, before snatching his shirt off the ground and throwing it on over his head, ruining her view. “And…off limits, apparently. Remember: self-control, Minx.”
“Duly noted.” She tilted her head to the side, sighing with a little moan. “Seriously, though, don’t give me a song and dance about working out. That’s gotta be Viking genes or something.”
He chuckled at her, shrugging, feeling ridiculously pleased. “Partially genes…plus hikes. Climbs. Free weights. I can think of some other aerobic activities I wouldn’t mind adding to the roster…like, immediately.”
“Like, what?” she rasped with a teasing grin.
“Like, in my bed.”
“Like, with a partner?” She leaned up against the couch, staring at him, then bit her lower lip slowly. His eyes darted to it and he actually felt his body sway toward her like he was drunk.
“Killing me, Minx,” he repeated, straightening up.
The room was quiet, and they stood before one another, eyes locked, a little stunned, maybe, both seeming to need a minute to process what was happening between them. Lars reached out gently and put his arms around her, and Jane wrapped her arms around him, leaning her cheek on his chest under his chin. They stood there together for a while, not moving, not kissing, not speaking, just holding each other.
Finally Lars leaned back to look into her eyes.
“Nothing feels as good as this, Jane,” he whispered. “Nothing ever has.”
Jane smiled, but he thought he saw some sadness creep into her expression before she rested her cheek back on his chest and answered, softly,
“Agreed.”
***
Lars hadn’t expected a dinner guest, but he always kept the fixings for våfflor, or Swedish waffles, on hand. Jane sat up on the counter beside the waffle iron, heckling him as various 60s songs played on the kitchen CD player.
“It is a damn shame you’ve never tried Svensk våfflor, Jane. We need to remedy your embarrassing lack of culinary experience.”
“By making waffles in an electric waffle iron?”
“Yes, smärta i nacken, in a waffle iron.”
“What does that mean?”
“Literally? Pain in the neck,” he answered, ending with a chuckle and winking at her.
“How much Swedish do you know?” she asked as he added batter to the iron and gingerly closed the top.
“Good bit. Enough to get by.”
A glop of batter oozed out the side and he caught it with a spatula before it dripped onto the counter.
“Tell me more words.”
He glanced at the iron between them, which seemed okay for now, and leaned one elbow on the counter, grinning at her.
“Okay. Let’s see…Värdefull.”
“Means?”
“Valuable…precious.” He took a deep breath, tilting his head and gazing at her. “Härlig.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Lovely,” he murmured.
She grinned at him, happy. “More, please.”
“Lita på mig.”
She tilted her head to the side in question.
“Means you can trust me…well, literally it means you can rely on me. But, it’s the same thing.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. I’m never going to lie to you again, and I’m not going anywhere, Jane. Jag lovar dig.”
Her eyes widened at the word “lovar” and she drew back a little, sitting ramrod straight on the counter. She swallowed, looking nervous. “L-lovar? What’s that mean?”
“Calm down.” Lars smiled at her discomposure. “Promise. It means, I promise you, not…”
“Whew! Got nervous there…”
“Nervous?”
“Yeah, I mean…it sounded like you were saying…”
He raised his eyebrows, smirking to conceal the unexpected disappointment he felt to hear her say that. It’s not that he was ready to tell her he loved her, but his feelings for her had definitely grown beyond mere affection. He knew it. He could feel it. They were rushing, bounding, hurtling toward love.
He looked down and shrugged, shaking off his disappointment. She was here with him, wasn’t she? In his house, in his kitchen, staying the night, giving him a chance. Don’t rush things, Lars. Be patient with her.
“Lars.” He looked up and her face was soft, maybe even a little worried. She gave him a small, cajoling smile. “One more?”
Lars nodded, looking down, thinking. When he looked back up, Jane’s eyes were wide, waiting for him to say one last thing in Swedish. His thoughts were still barreling in one direction, and he couldn’t just hit a switch to detour them or turn them off. There was only one phrase circling in a loop in Lars’s head, and once he thought of it, he couldn’t think of any others, so he said:
“Jag är förälskad i dig, Jane.” I am falling in love with you, Jane.
“Means?” The bell on the waffle iron dinged loudly between them, making Jane jump a little.
“Means the våfflor are done, Minx. Ready for something sweet?”
***
Idiot! Jane took a plate of waffles covered in some sort of Swedish jam that was unfamiliar to her and stayed perched on the counter as he leaned beside her, eating in silence.
Great job, Jane. You could have offered a hard cringe or vomited or something just to add a little extra repulsion to your reaction to the word lover which wasn’t even the word lover!
She wished she could go back to the moment and just smile at him, raise her eyebrows, stay silent…anything! Anything but her stupid stumbling, bumbling response that shut him down and didn’t come anywhere close to expressing her true feelings.
“These are great,” she offered.
He nudged her thigh with his elbow. “Told you.”