She caught his hand and pressed it against her face. It was the first time he’d touched her since they’d left for dinner. “I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted.
“That’s nice to hear. I’m never sure with you,” he surprised her by saying, his expression rueful. “You make me feel like a nervous kid again sometimes. Asking myself questions… ‘Does she like me?’ ‘Does she think about me when I’m not around?’ ‘Does she think I’m cute?’”
His smile invited her to laugh with him.
She did. “Yes, I like you. And, yes, I think about you when you’re not around. And, yes, I think you’re very cute.”
Chuckling, he slid his hand behind her head and pulled her closer.
“You make me happy, Savannah McBride,” he murmured, and then covered her mouth with his before she could reply.
This man knew exactly which buttons to push to turn her into oatmeal, Savannah thought as she slid her arms around his neck and responded to the kiss. Every word, every touch, every smile could have been specifically designed to seduce her. And, oh, did he succeed.
He spent a long time exploring her mouth, tasting, testing, savoring. He ran the tip of his tongue along her lower lip, then slipped it between, teasing her into opening for him. Her tongue met his, and the kiss changed from playful to ravenous.
His hand slid very slowly down her side, then back up again to cup her breast. His thumb circled her nipple, slowly, sensually, reminding her of the way he’d kissed her there when they’d made love. He lowered his head to kiss her chin, and then her throat. And then he tugged down the opening of her scoop-necked top to rub his lips against the top of her breasts, which he cupped in both hands.
Savannah threw back her head and clenched her fingers in his luxurious dark hair, her body beginning to throb with the need for more of him.
“I want you.” Kit’s voice was gruff. “I want you so badly.”
She was only a breath away from ripping his shirt off and taking him right there in the car. It took the last ounce of her willpower to draw back, her breathing heavy, her body quivering with regret
“I’d better go in,” she said finally, her voice hardly recognizable. “I have to check on Miranda.”
“I know.” He made a visible effort to look understanding.
“Good night, Kit.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. The word had become somehow important to them. Maybe because each time they parted now, it was with the certainty that they would see each other the next day.
As Savannah walked through her front door, dragging a weary, still unsteady hand through her hair, she wondered how long she would have that reassurance.
ALWAYS THE FIRST in bed, Ernestine was already in her room with the door closed and no light shining beneath it when Savannah passed. She was tempted to tap on the door and have a long heart-to-heart with her -mother about Kit, but she decided to wait. She wasn’t quite ready for that talk herself.
She stopped by Michael’s room next He was just climbing into bed.
He yawned loudly. “I’d better get some sleep so I can play ball tomorrow. Kit said every athlete needs a good night’s sleep the night before a big game.”
The obvious adoration in his youthful voice was terrifying to Savannah. She wondered if she should try to warn him not to start expecting too much from Kit just yet. If she could only explain to him that everything between herself and Kit was still so tentative, so uncertain.
But she wasn’t quite ready for that talk, either, she found. Especially not while her son looked so happy. She merely nodded and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Good night, Michael. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Miranda, too, was already in bed, her head almost hidden by her covers.
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong, sweetheart?” Savannah probed gently. “You’ve been so quiet since dinner.”
“Just tired, Mom. Good night”
“I love you, Miranda.”
“I love you, too.”
Savannah closed herself into her own room and rubbed her temples. It almost felt as though a tornado was going on inside her skull. Her feelings for Kit warred with her concerns about the changes he was making in her family’s lives, and the conflict was tearing her apart.