Touching Silver (21 page)

“Good, because I plan to take advantage of your rather voracious appetites tonight. All of them.”

As she started to walk away, Isaac caught her hand and pulled her back, tugging hard enough to force her down close enough for him to cup the back of her neck. His subsequent kiss was soft and slow, much like the strokes along her hand when he had been holding it, and it lasted far too briefly for her satisfaction.

His thumb brushed over her quivering lower lip. “Just because,” he murmured. As if he needed to offer no other explanation.

Maybe no other explanation was needed between them at all. Why was she willing to turn her back on rules she kept for herself for the last decade? Just because. Why did it hurt to spend a night angry with him? Just because.

Why had she fallen in love with him?

Just because.

She’d had a boyfriend in college who couldn’t do much beyond make himself bowls of cereal. But she loved him, and she didn’t want him to starve, and it wasn’t his fault his mother had crippled him with her love. She cooked at least half of his meals, if not more. And he loved to experiment. He would eat anything she put in front of him, and she used him as an excuse to try every single recipe she could find. Cooking soothed her—measurements and cooking times and temperatures. It all made sense. The relationship didn’t work out—it turned out his mother had crippled him in more ways than one—but Olivia still had a huge box of recipes. And she still enjoyed cooking.

She got home by six, giving her two hours to work with before Isaac arrived. It took her nearly the whole afternoon to get a message to Rico, get in contact with him and then work out a satisfactory deal. She’d been right. Rico didn’t want to help unless she promised him a few things—and everything came down to safety and freedom. She offered him every guarantee she could.

Just after five, Rico had sent her a terse text.
It’s done
.

Now they had to play the waiting game. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but they were waiting for Parker’s corpse. She knew the right thing to do: Find him, arrest him, try him, convict him. But Parker knew Gabriel was a dangerous enemy and an even more dangerous ally, and he’d risked it anyway. Isaac and Nathan and Remy would say
good riddance
but Olivia didn’t have a personal history with Parker, and she wasn’t as jaded as her new friends. She supposed if Parker’s body did show up, a small part of her would always regret it. Things tended to be less messy when they kept to the book.

She left the office after she heard from Rico but didn’t go directly home. She’d stopped at the grocery store, the movie store, the bakery and the adult bookstore. Fortunately, the sun went down by five o’clock. She didn’t mind going into the sex shop at all—as long as the sun wasn’t up.

Olivia put in her Aretha Franklin CD and blasted it, singing along as she worked in the kitchen. Tiberius sang, too, howling and barking happily as he pranced around her feet and she dropped scraps of food into his waiting mouth. Tiberius loved it when she cooked. By the time eight rolled around, the bread bowls were warming in the oven, the chili was bubbling on the stove, and she had changed into her favorite old jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt. It wasn’t the sexiest thing she owned, but she didn’t think Isaac needed sexy. He needed a place where he could relax. And smile.

She liked it when he smiled.

The knock at her door came at five after eight. Her heart jumped a little in anticipation as she wiped her hands off and strode out to answer it. Tiberius padded after her, but hung back out of the way as she pulled the door open.

There it was. The smile she’d been waiting for.

He was freshly showered, his hair still damp. His worn jeans hugged his long legs, and his open coat revealed the button-down shirt, untucked and open at the collar. He’d shaved too. He looked good. Very good.

And happy to see her.

He held out his hand, a plastic bag dangling from his fingers. “I wasn’t sure what was on the menu for tonight. But I figured Oreo cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory went with everything.”

“It does.” She took the bag from him. “It’s the little black dress of the food world. The menu is simple tonight. Chili in bread bowls, chips and beer.”

He followed her inside, closing the door behind him before shedding his jacket. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.
Get to the kitchen and put the dessert in the fridge before he catches you ogling.

Isaac remained a step behind.

“Please tell me you’re not one of those people who doesn’t put any meat in chili.” He leaned over the stove and inhaled deeply. “God, that smells good.”

“No, there’s sirloin chunks
and
pork in my chili.” She nodded at a plastic sack on the counter. “I was thinking the theme for the evening would be
quiet night in
. I rented some movies. Not my usual fare, but I thought you might like them.”

She refused to watch to gauge his reaction as he checked out the titles, but his chuckle said enough.

“Okay,
Say Anything
I get. I pretty much asked for that.” He held up the other DVD. “But a romantic drama where the guy doesn’t get the girl in the end? Tell me you’re not trying to hint at something I was too thick to see at the sandwich shop.”

“He doesn’t? Thanks for spoiling the end of the movie.”

“I’d say oops, but hasn’t everybody seen
The Bodyguard
? It’s an American classic.”

Olivia hid her smile by bending to pull the bread out of the warm oven. “I’m woefully unschooled on the classics. Plus, I always thought Kevin Costner was a bit smarmy.”

Isaac caught her by the waist as she set the tray on the counter, pulling her gently back against his chest. “I guess I’m going to have to start schooling you, then.” His breath was warm against her ear, his body more so. “And you’ll have to start schooling me on whatever your usual fare is.”

“My usual fare tends to include private dicks and dames with great gams,” Olivia said, distracted from the bread by his tongue tracing her ear. She turned in his arms and looked up to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if you want to talk shop tonight, but Rico agreed to help.”

“I don’t think we’d be us if a little shop talk didn’t pop up every once in awhile.” He seemed fascinated by her mouth, his hand coming up to trace her lower lip. “But that’s good news. One step closer to this being over with.”

Olivia nodded, wrapping her arm around his neck. “I can’t tell you how happy I am about that.” She stretched and brushed her lips across his. “And I’m happy you’re here too.”

He sighed into the kiss, returning the gentle caress with a slow deliberation. “Part of me was afraid I dreamed the sandwich shop. I fell asleep at my desk when I got back to the station. I was half-convinced you were going to slam the door in my face when I showed up here tonight.”

Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of his cologne—Hugo Boss, she now knew. How did a man who didn’t sleep at all the night before and napped at his desk still smell so good? “What can I say? I’m a sucker for anybody who wears silk shirts to work and promises to do anything to make me happy.”

His hand curled through her hair, fingers tender against her nape as he slowly tilted her head to the side. Isaac skimmed his mouth over her jaw, the tip of his tongue darting out to dance over her skin, until he reached the curve of her shoulder. There, his lips parted further, teeth nipping at the muscle until goose bumps erupted along her arms.

“You have to stop me,” he said. “I want to hold you bad enough to skip dinner, and I’ve got less self-control than Nathan or Remy right now.”

For the moment, Olivia had a very hard time remembering why they couldn’t skip dinner. She made the effort of providing dinner and entertainment, he made a note of it, and now they could go right to the bedroom.

“Well, we have two choices. We could curl up on the couch, eat dinner, and watch a classic romantic comedy from the eighties, or we can go to bed.”

“Well, the nice thing about chili is…” he reached past her and turned the burner down on the stove, lowering the flame beneath the pot until it was barely a flicker, “…it tastes even better the longer it cooks.”

“In a lot of ways, it’s the perfect food.” She smoothed her hands over his shoulders to rest at the open collar of his shirt. “But what about you? Maybe you’ll get better the longer I let you…stew.”

Isaac straightened, eyes dark with desire. “I already told you. I’ll wait however long I need to. Maybe we should stick with the original plan. I’ve missed the way you fit against me.”

She’d missed it too. She didn’t want for sexual partners. When she had an itch she couldn’t scratch herself, she had a few regular friends with benefits. But she didn’t know anybody else who would sit with her on the couch, who seemed perfectly happy to just hold her and be with her.

“Go put one of the movies in. I’ll dish up the food.”

Dropping one last kiss to her cheek, Isaac scooped up the bag of movies and whistled at Tiberius to follow him out to the living room. Obediently, the dog padded after, his nails clicking against the linoleum, leaving Olivia to finish the preparations alone.

When she walked into the living room carrying the tray laden with food, Isaac sprang up from where he’d been sitting on the floor, wrestling with Tiberius. “I put in
Say Anything
.” He relieved her of the cumbersome tray. “I want the happy ending tonight.”

“That’s funny. I once heard a respected politician say that right before I busted him for solicitation.” She settled on the couch and Isaac sat down beside her, handing her a full plate. His arm went around her immediately, pulling her close.
Look at us. We’re already an old married couple
.

In spite of his assertions about being hungry, Isaac seemed content to sip at his beer as the movie began. The hand around her shoulder idly stroked her upper arm, but his attention remained on the TV, chuckling at the occasional joke. Even when she teased him about not eating, he just shrugged and smiled, saying, “The food’s not going anywhere. And I have to let you go in order to eat. Easy choice.”

She ate her chili absently, more intent on watching him than she was Lloyd Dobler. As she had chopped onions and browned the meat, she debated whether or not she should confess her feelings. Ultimately, she decided it was too early in the relationship—too early to have them and to talk about them. But he made it difficult to stick with her original decision. Especially when he silently took her empty plate from her hand, set it aside and pulled her even closer.

“You have eggs, right?” he asked out of the blue.

“Yeah, I keep them around for Tibby.”

“Good. I’m thinking omelettes for breakfast.”

“I like the way you think.” She lifted her eyes, studying his jaw and the line of his neck. “I’m ready for dessert, but you haven’t even touched your dinner.”

His gaze flickered to the bread bowl, still sitting on the coffee table. “Tell you what,” he said, stretching to pick up the plate. He settled back on the couch, balancing it on his leg. “I’ll eat now, and then we’ll feed each other cheesecake at intermission.”

Olivia nodded, though her mouth watered for the cheesecake. She reached over and held the edge of the plate, steadying it on his lap as he began. She could have sat up, freeing his arm, but she didn’t want to move. Neither of them wanted to move.

“So how many times have you seen this movie?”

“Only a couple,” he said around a mouthful of chili. “If I’m going to do eighties flicks, I usually pick
Pretty in Pink
.” He grinned as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe that’s why redheads get me hot.”

She grimaced. “She ended up with the wrong guy. What kind of movie is that?”

“Maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Blane’s just misunderstood.”

Olivia had a response ready, but she knew from experience Blane versus Duckie debates could last for hours, or even days. And if he didn’t get it now, he never would.

As soon as the credits began to roll, she pulled away from Isaac and stood. “Time for dessert. You wait here.”

She pulled the cheesecake out of the box, unable to resist dragging her finger over the top to sample the cookie-sprinkled filling. “Oh, that’s just sinful,” she murmured, as she licked her finger clean.

She returned to the living room with nothing but the cheesecake. Her plan made forks and plates unnecessary.

Isaac glanced at her hands, then the door behind her. “Forget something?”

“Nope.” She placed the cake on the cushion beside him before straddling his lap. Olivia skimmed her finger over the top again, and then smeared the sweet filling over his lips. Before he said a word, she traced his lips with her tongue, cleaning his skin. “I just thought you should be part of my dessert.”

Something hungry darted in his eyes, and his hands gripped her ass. “Bedroom. Naked. Now.” His mouth twitched, but he visibly bit back the smile. “And I don’t care if that makes me sound bossy. Bedroom. Naked.
Now
.”

It did make him sound bossy, but Olivia didn’t care either. She scrambled off his lap, unbuttoning her pants as she walked. “Last one naked is a rotten egg.” She whipped her shirt over her head. “Don’t forget the cheesecake.”

She was naked long before he loomed in the doorway, and her heart beat faster at the way his gaze raked over her bare skin. He propped the dessert plate in his hand as he took a slow step forward.

“I think there’s something you didn’t think about. It doesn’t matter if I’m the last one naked.
I’m
the one with the cheesecake.”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Does this mean you aren’t going to let me have any?”

He took another step closer. “And miss having your mouth on me? I’m not dumb.”

“No, you aren’t.” Olivia held out her hand. “So pass it over.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll take it from you.”

He grinned. “Now how am I supposed to turn down a dare like that?”

“You’re going to get your pretty clothes all messed up,” she warned.

“I have an excellent drycleaner.” Another step. “How about we take turns? Let me get one taste of you, and I’ll give it up.”

Olivia sat on the bed, leaning back to brace herself on her hands. “You have a deal.”

He set the cheesecake on the vanity, well beyond her reach. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he sank his fingers into the soft dessert, coating them instead of the single bite she had offered in the living room. She forced herself to stay still as he advanced, every step nearer making her heart pound just that much harder. By the time he sank to his knees in front of her, all she heard was the roar of her blood.

“I never said it was going to be a small taste.” With a sly twinkle in his eye, he dragged his fingers across the top of her breasts, spreading the cheesecake around the full swells before bending his head.