Pretty Pink Ribbons (A Touch of Fate 2) - Page 37

“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping away. He grabs my arm and I stop. I expect him to whip me around like it happens in all those romance novels I read, but he doesn’t. He tugs gently on my arm, and I turn around and look at him. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking. The air around us buzzes with electricity, and butterflies have taken flight in my stomach. I have no idea how I affect him, but he sure as heck does something crazy to me.

I’d give anything to have the freedom to touch him or kiss him again anytime I want, but I lost that privilege. His hand drops from my arm and I close my eyes in defeat, vowing to hold myself together. When I feel his fingers slip between mine, goose bumps scatter up my arm and my eyes flutter open. I look down at our joined hands and hope starts churning deep inside of me.

“Laney?” His voice is hoarse with raw emotion. I glance up and he steps into me, our fronts molding together. My heart is beating so fast that I’m certain it’s going to fly right out of my chest. His free hand makes its way to my hip and I take a deep breath, relishing the way his long fingers curl around me.

This is happening, and he’s orchestrating it. All of it. I’ve given him complete control. My body is his puppet. His touch is controlling everything from the rate of my heartbeat to the depth of my breath to the tingle in my toes. Right this second, I’m breathing for him, not with him, and I will only move when he moves.

His large hand sits at the base of my waist and he gives it a light squeeze. His eyes are two pools of swirling water, and I want nothing more than to dive inside and drown in his soul. Resurfacing is not an option because I need him more than I need my next breath.

When his head lowers, my stomach flutters in the best possible way. His nose brushes against mine, our warm breath mingling in the evening air. His chin drops and his lips land lightly on mine. It’s perfect. This moment with Levi is absolutely perfect.

“Levi! Get your ass—” Levi pulls back and looks up, clearing his throat as his hand falls from my hip. My body is instantly cold, and I turn around to see Harley standing outside the door. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly, looking away. “We, um . . . we need to get started.” She looks at the door and then back at us. “But if you need a few more—”

“We’ll be right in.” Levi’s voice is clipped but not rude, and I wonder if it’s because he wanted that kiss as badly as I did or because he’s glad she interrupted before he could make a monumental mistake. He looks confused when his gaze meets mine again, and he runs a hand through his hair. “I, uh . . . about that . . . can we just . . .” His stuttering is cute, but I decide to put him out of his misery. I hate that he feels uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Levi. Let’s just go inside. We can talk later, okay?” I walk past him toward the door and when he doesn’t follow, I turn around. His chest rises on a deep breath, and for a split second I think he’s going to say something . . . but he doesn’t. He nods his head and

then walks toward me.

We head inside and I stop dead in my tracks. The room is filled with people of all ages, from tiny babies to the elderly and every stage in between. But that’s not what catches my attention. It’s obvious that they’re all either homeless or severely poor and malnourished.

My head whips around to Levi and he shrugs. “You said that one of the greatest things you ever did was volunteer—oomph.” His words are cut off when I throw myself at his chest, my arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his neck. “Thank you so much.”

Levi’s arms wrap around me, and with one of his hands he cups the back of my head. “You’re welcome.”

“As much I enjoy seeing you two all cuddly, it’s really starting to creep me out. Are we going to feed these people or what?” Harley asks, hands on hips.

Levi laughs and I untangle myself from his arms. “We’re going to feed these people.” Rubbing my hands together excitedly, I walk away from Levi and Harley and make my way over to the kitchen.

Several people are wearing aprons, busying themselves around the room. I walk up to an elderly woman and tap her on the shoulder. She turns to me with the sweetest smile and I ask, “Where do you want me?”

Her smile gets just a little bit bigger and she points toward the stove. “Over there would be great, dear.” She hands me an apron, and I slip it over my head and tie the string around my back. Stepping up to the stove, I look around to see what still needs to be done. A gentleman next to me hands me a wooden spoon and then startles the heck out of me when he kisses my cheek. I look at him with wide, amused eyes and he winks, pointing to my apron. I look down and sure enough, written in large red letters across my chest, it says ‘Kiss The Cook.’

“You’re the cook,” he mutters, patting me gently on the cheek before turning away.

I sense him before I feel him, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, and within seconds, the front of Levi’s body is resting against my back. “No fraternizing with the other workers, especially of the male variety.” He leans over my shoulder to look at what I’m stirring and I throw my head back, laughing. Levi’s eyes find mine when my head lands on his chest, and awareness simmers beneath my skin. His warm breath fans the side of my face, causing our almost-kiss from the parking lot to pop into my head. My laugh softens to a light purr and Levi’s eyes spark with lust. “I’m still thinking about it too,” he whispers, giving me a devilish smile before pushing past me to grab a spoon out of the drawer.

The next several hours fly by in a joyous flurry. We cooked, served and mingled, and I laughed more than I’ve laughed in the past several months. These people are absolutely amazing, and it reminds me so much of the place in California where I used to volunteer. Levi doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to come back here as often as I can. This is where I’m most happy. Helping people that actually need it and appreciate it. This brings me peace. I imagine it’s because I didn’t grow up in the best conditions, and if I can make someone’s life a little bit better or put some food in their empty bellies, then, by gosh, I’ll do it.

“Honey—” I look up and a frail-looking woman, probably in her eighties if I had to guess, is standing in front of me. “Is there any of that food left over?” She puts a fist to her mouth and coughs several times.

“Are you okay?” My hand rests on her shoulder, and she shakes her head as she breaks out into another coughing fit. Gripping her elbow in one hand and wrapping an arm around her back, I lead her over to a nearby table and help her sit down. Her coughing fit dies down once again and she apologizes.

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be sorry. Are you okay?” I ask again, concerned that something might be seriously wrong with her.

“I’ll be fine, dear. It’s just a cold. Nothing a little cough medicine won’t cure.” She runs a withered hand over her forehead and swallows, her loose-fitting dentures shifting in the process. “What I could really use is some of that food if you’ve got some extra.”

“You stay right here and I’m going to go see what I can come up with.” She pats my hands and offers me a soft smile. Most of the food is gone, but I saw someone stuff a large bowl of spaghetti into the refrigerator earlier. Walking into the kitchen, I pull open the cabinets to look for something to put it in.

“What are you doing?” Levi asks.

I shut a set of doors and move to the next when I don’t find what I’m looking for. “That woman out there needs to take some food home. I’m looking for a container.” My eyes scan the shelf, but there’s nothing except glass dishes and cups.

“Here.” Levi walks to the refrigerator and pulls out the bowl. “Just give her all of it.”

“Really?” I ask, turning toward him. “The Senior Center won’t mind? I mean, I can make arrangements to get it from her and I’ll make sure it gets back—”

Tags: K. L. Grayson A Touch of Fate Romance
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