“Someone’s in a good mood.”
She looked up and felt her lips curve in a half-smileat the figure standing in the doorway. “You look like hell.”
It was true. Luke was gorgeous, as always, but there were dark circles under his eyes and a slightly rumpled look to him, like he’d just had a nap.
“You know just what to say.” Luke grinned. “I’ve had a busy twenty-four hours. My client unexpectedly had to find somewhere else to build his condos and he wasnothappy about it.”
April winced. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m not.”
Trying to make sense of the words, she stared at him and only looked away when the sun slid behind a cloud. Still, the sunlight had infused the room and April made a mental note to hang some sun-catchers like the one she’d bought her mom for the kitchen. Rainbows on the green walls and bouncing off the blooms would look truly otherworldly.
“I think there’s something wrong with your drink,” Luke teased, leaning against the doorway in a pose that highlighted his long, lithe body as he whispered, “It’s green.”
“Just like the shop.” She took a long sip of the iced drink and let her eyes close in bliss. An intent look crossed Luke’s face when she re-opened them. “What?”
“It just looks good. The drink.”
She smirked. “It is. Get your own.”
“Oh, so I can share my Indian takeout but you won’t let me have a tiny sip of your matcha?” He raised hisbrows and yet still managed to look surprised when she walked over and offered the drink to him. The tip of the straw disappeared into his mouth and he sucked, letting out a groan so deep that it made her stomach tighten and butterflies take flight low in her abdomen. “You’re right, that is good.” Luke handed the drink back and tugged at the sleeves of his maroon pullover, like he needed something to do with his hands lest he reach for her. She thought she might have let him if he’d tried.
“I was just stopping in to bring you a store-warming gift.”
April raised a brow. “Is that a thing?”
Luke shrugged. “It is now.” His smile was full of mischief as he hovered in the doorway, his uncharacteristic hesitation making her antsy.
“Well? Are you coming in?”
He chuckled and came farther into the room, tilting his head to take in the decorating. “It really does look great. You happy with it?”
“Very,” she admitted. “So, what did you bring me?”
“Hm?”
“For my ‘store-warming’,” she reminded him and he jolted.
“Right, yes. Of course. Here.” He held out a small, flat, purple envelope and she took it cautiously, unsure what she was meant to do with it—it was a lot of hype to live up to for just a card. “Go ahead,” he encouraged. “Open it.”
So she did, the paper tearing easily, and a small packet fell out of the envelope into her palm. It was square in shape and when she turned it over she gasped. It was seeds for violas.
“Figured I’d get you your first ones,” he said quietly and when she looked up, she realized he’d moved closer. His blue eyes were like deep pools, swallowing her whole as he licked his lips. “I hope they’re OK.”
“They’re my favorite,” she whispered and his half-smile said that he knew. She turned away and placed the packet in the pink shelves that Noah had built for her, and when she turned back, Luke’s eyes tracked her movement, a muscle in his jaw flexing.
April walked to him, steps sure and measured, confident, loving the way he watched her closely like nothing else in the world existed right then except for them.
She stopped in front of him, looked up into his eyes and let them share the same breath as their lips hesitated, not quite touching, the heat from him jumping into her as their mouths brushed once, twice, and then deepened the kiss.
Luke’s hand cupped the back of her head, cradling her as he tasted her slowly, thoroughly, so different from their previous rushed, desperate kisses. This was an unhurried exploration, like they had all the time in the world to stand there, connected by all the points of contact their bodies shared. Somehow, it felt like more than just a kiss. When he pulled back, he waspanting and she felt equally short of breath. “Tell me to stop, Jones.” He punctuated the words with another kiss, hotter than the last, leaving her chasing him for more when he withdrew. “I don’t want to do this if you’re just going to run away from me again. So tell me to stop. Tell me you hate me.” His next kiss was a demand, a claiming that she didn’t fight, couldn’t have if she’d tried. “Tell me you want this as much as me.”
“Luke,” she whispered, returning the desire in his kiss as she tugged him closer. “I want this. I wantyou.”
It was like the words were his undoing.
He lifted her easily, placing her on the edge of the wooden counter without breaking the kiss. His eyes burned with blue fire as he trailed kisses across her jaw to the hollow beneath, sucking lightly on the pulse point until she was desperate for him.