I come up behind her and lean down so I can wrap my arms around her shoulders. “Hey, beautiful. Come eat.”

Her typing doesn’t stop, and I watch as the words fire across the screen. “Almost done.” Her voice is vacant, as if she’s responding on autopilot. Scarlett has left the building, and in her place is a one-woman writing machine.

The urge to kiss her is strong, so I plant one on her temple. Not moving my arms from around her, I pull back enough to watch her. Those blue eyes trail along the monitor like one of those bouncy balls illuminating words on a children’s sing-along video. She’s not paying attention to me in the least. So, I wait.

There’s a moment—one breath, that’s all—when Casey’s warning plays in the back of my mind. What if she dives in again and I’m not enough to pull her back out?

But her rhythmic typing becomes erratic, then stops altogether. She rolls her eyes and smiles to herself. “You’re staring at me like a creep.”

“A creep with food,” I counter, meeting her grin with one of my own.

She lets out a sigh, but it sounds like it’s more for show than out of irritation. “You said mac and cheese?” Her voice is bright. Scarlett is back in the building. There is no crisis here.

“Oh, so you were listening,” I tease.

She turns her face to mine, and my lips buzz at our proximity. But she winks before I can act. “I always listen when you talk about cheese.”

“Noted.” I do kiss her then, because I can’t stay away. She’s so brilliant, so beautiful. And she’s mine. I won’t waste another moment not kissing her when I could be. Not again.

Scarlett moans softly, circling her arms around my neck. I angle my head to kiss her more deeply, teasing at her lips with my tongue. She gives me entry easily. Without separating myself from her, I fumble around with my hand to close her laptop.

Chuckling, she pulls away and rubs her nose against mine. “Message received.”

I don’t know if I’ll always be enough to pull her out of her work, but my heart soars with the knowledge that I am now. Keep things manageable—I can do that.

She kisses me again quickly, then stands and makes her way to the kitchen. “Cheese first, then dessert.”

I follow her out of the bedroom, adjusting myself as I walk. “I didn’t get dessert.”

Flashing me a devious smile, she retrieves a fork from the drawer and opens a container. “Not what I meant.”