So busy ogling him, I didn’t realize he was doing the same, taking his time moving his gaze up my body. I felt that look, little fires sparking to life under my skin. By the time his gaze lifted to mine, I was about to go up like a roman candle. Maybe this was a date.
“Like the dress,” he said, but it was how he said it, all rough and gravelly. I was glad I was wearing sneakers because I didn’t think I could manage in heels.
“You ready?” he asked.
There was a good chance I wasn’t going to survive the evening. My body was going haywire, but what a way to go. I grabbed my purse, locked the door. He led me to his truck, opened the door, but didn’t wait for me to climb in. He lifted me like I weighed nothing; his hands lingered on my hips after my ass found the seat. He was so close I could smell his spicy scent, which only added fuel to the fire. Those eyes, damn, I could get lost in them but that mouth. I wanted to feel those lips on mine, wanted his taste on my tongue. His eyes grew darker, his focus shifted to my mouth. I wasn’t alone in the feeling and that only amped me up more. He closed the door; I closed my eyes and sought for calm because, at this rate, I was going to expire before we even reached the restaurant.
He climbed in, and I had never been so aware of someone. He started the truck, glanced over and asked, “Temperature good?”
I could be in a bath of ice water, and I still wasn’t cooling off being so close to him, but it was a good burn. “Yeah, feels good.”
He turned his truck around, started down my drive. “Where are we going?” I asked.
He glanced over again. “You’ll see.” This time, his gaze lingered a beat longer and drifted down. He was not helping the situation, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
I needed to focus, before I threw caution to the wind and did something reckless. “The porch looks amazing.”
“Yeah. Graham’s good. Those rockers new?”
“Yep, for the porch.”
“Nice.”
“I need to look at sets for the back, but I want to wait until we settle on the stone.”
“What was your place like in New York?”
“It was a condo in a high rise. I didn’t even have a balcony. I didn’t realize how much I missed sitting outside until I moved here.” I glanced out the window. “There’s a lot I forgot.”
“Understandable, given your history.”
I turned in my seat. “Yeah, but I think I should have been more aware given what I went through. You know, seized the day, carpe diem and all that shit.”
“You’re seizing it now.”
He had a way of cutting through the bullshit, just calling it as he saw it, simple, straightforward and honest. It was refreshing. “That’s true.”
A house came into view, and I lost my train of thought. It was a long cabin, but unlike the round logs of my cabin, they were flat planks. There was a huge covered porch, French doors on both sides of the porch, leading into the wings and windows along the whole front. A balcony was over that, more windows and an A-frame roofline with a stained-glass window centered at the peak.
The landscape had lots of large river rocks, a little stream that ran right through the garden, made to look natural, but clearly manmade. “This place is amazing.”
Killian hit a button in his truck, and the one garage door opened. He pulled his truck in next to his black sports car. I had to wonder how the man afforded a place like this, but then it dawned that we weren’t going to a restaurant. He was cooking.
He came around the truck, opened my door and offered me his hand. I could feel callouses on his and wondered how they’d feel moving over my body. My legs went a little weak at the thought. He held the back door for me, and Cooper and Max immediately greeted us.
“Hey, guys,” I said, getting down on my knees and hugging them both. Then I saw his kitchen. I stood. As much as I loved my kitchen, I had kitchen envy. Black cabinets lined the wall, a huge slap of granite resting on what looked like a pile of huge river rock was the kitchen island. The same granite was used as the backsplash. Parts of the wall were the wood while other parts were plastered and painted a smoky gray.
“The potatoes are on. I need to start the grill,” he said.
I chuckled, remembering my grill adventure. “What kind of grill you got?” I asked.
He remembered, too, when he grinned. It was just a grin, but coming from a man who showed little emotion, that look was worthy of framing. He waited for me then we walked to the great room, Cooper and Max following us, but I stopped at the stairs because he had a tree in the middle of his house, the branches were the support beams for the spiral staircase.
“I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“It was just an idea.”
“Your idea?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
So not just into construction. “Were you an architect?”
If he was surprised by my question, I couldn’t tell. “Not by training.”
“Really?” I glanced around his house. “You designed this, right?”
“Yeah, know what I like.”
It wasn’t so much his words, but the fact that he was looking at me when he said them. My heart did a slow roll in my chest. He continued to the deck; I followed but took my time, now knowing he designed his house. The fireplace was stone, but unlike my stone, it looked like the opening of a cave, even the mantel was stone. It was big and chunky, and with the straight lines of the rafter ceiling and walls, it added visual interest. The furniture was leather, a warm chocolate brown, and area rugs in dark jewel tones rested under them. He didn’t have antlers or deer heads. There was a clock over the mantle, a huge, roman numeral-faced clock with bronze numbers and hands, light fixtures that looked like raining gems in the same jewel tones. A piano sat in one corner, bookcases in the other.
“This place is a work of art. My company did several campaigns for log cabin magazines, and this puts all their star homes to shame.”
He replied with a shrug, before he slid open the slider door. He had an outdoor fireplace, hell an entire outdoor kitchen with a grill that was clearly the Bentley of grills. He even had a beverage refrigerator and beyond that was nothing but open space with the mountains on the horizon.
“How do you leave this place?”
“Not easily. Do you want a beer or wine?”
“Wine, cabernet if you have it.”
He grabbed himself a beer, turned the grill on then headed back inside, waiting for me at the door to precede him. I sat down at the island and watched him move through his kitchen with an ease of someone who did it often. He uncorked the bottle, poured me a glass, then moved to the fridge for the steaks he had marinating. He’d put thought into our dinner, and though he’d said the night was so I’d get a chance to wear my dress, the only one I wanted to see me in it was him.