He yelled at her instead. “What the hell were you doing outside without gloves?”

She smiled teasingly. “Glad to see that you are in a better mood.”

He ground his teeth together, in no mood for her joking. “I mean it, niña. If you had the common sense God gave a cat, you’d know this is not bare-headed and bare hands weather.”

Her smile withered and died. “I was going to offer to help you with dinner—but without the common sense that God gave a cat I’m sure I’d do myself damage. And, since you persist in seeing me as a child, I can’t imagine being of any real help to you either.”

She turned around and left.

Had he offended her into going back to the Pattersons’? No, she would not do so without the cats. He continued grating cheese, listening for a cat’s yowl or a door slamming, but heard neither.

She came back into the kitchen moments later, this time without her coat.

He stifled his relief and said nothing as she got herself a glass of water.

After a few minutes, Zoe’s continued silence got to him. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He hated apologizing. So why did he always end up saying he was sorry to Zoe?

“For what? Speaking the truth as you see it?”

“I do not think you are senseless and, while I use the term niña as an endearment, I do not think you are a child.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

She sighed. “All right, then. I forgive you.”

Grant stifled a demand that she promise not to go outside without gloves again. He’d had enough arguing for one night.

She hopped out of her chair and started gathering the rest of the ingredients for dinner. The water came to a boil and he dumped the pasta in. “We’ll have to wait until the snow lets up for me to drive you home.”

Zoe’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding. No way are you going to be able to drive me back tonight.”

Was that why she had not stormed out? Because she thought she was stuck there? “My truck has four-wheel drive.”

She stopped measuring ingredients into the saucepan on the stove. “Four-wheel drive won’t do a thing for low visibility. It’s a good thing we brought the cats with us.”

Someone had sucked all the air out of the kitchen, and Grant regretted giving his foreman’s wife time off for the holidays. At least if she were here to prepare dinner they would not be alone. “You can’t spend the night.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I can.”

He was drowning. “You don’t have any clothes with you.”

She gave him a cheerful smile. “You can lend me something to sleep in.”

Zoe sleeping in his clothes? The image of her wearing one of his T-shirts as a nightgown caused an uncomfortable sensation in his groin. A mental picture of her wearing him made his jeans feel like a pair of Speedos two sizes too small. “The snow will let up.”

“I hope so.” She tasted the cheese sauce by dipping her finger in a spoon of sauce and licking it off. Slowly.

He itched to copy the action, her finger in his mouth.

“I don’t want to miss the last day of school tomorrow.” She took another tortuous lick of the sauce, this time off the spoon.

He needed better ventilation in the kitchen. He could not get enough air.

She turned toward him and offered the spoon. “Want to try it? I think it’s done.”

“N-no.” His voice hadn’t cracked like that since middle school. He cleared his throat. “I trust you.”

She shrugged. “You’re missing something. It’s really good.” Then she proceeded to lick every last drop of melted cheese from the spoon.

The pasta boiled over and he jumped forward to save it. He grabbed the pot, inwardly cursing his earlier inability to look away from Zoe’s tantalizing lips on the spoon. The noodles looked cooked. He tested one and burnt his tongue. “Ouch.”

She handed him a glass of water. “Drink. It will help.”

He grimaced, but didn’t argue.

“You do this every time.” She combined the noodles and sauce. “All you have to do is be a little more patient.”

He did not interrupt her tirade. He was not about to explain that the image of her tongue on the spoon had all but robbed him of his senses. Hell. He had almost kissed her again. He tossed asparagus spears into a pan with butter and sautéed them.

They chatted about Zoe’s class at school over dinner. The kids were involved in the Christmas program at the Sunshine Springs Community Center the following week. “You’ll go with me, won’t you?”

He wanted to refuse, figuring that any time spent around her right now would just lead to further tortured urges, but he’d hurt her feelings enough for one day. “Sure.”




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