Again, that implied too much of a long-term commitment, didn’t it? Anja suppressed a sigh. This taking-it-one-day-at-a-time thing was tougher than she had expected.

“Might be what?” Susanne prompted when Anja fell silent.

“A much better date than your sister. Did you know she’s taking Miri to a tree-top ropes course on Saturday?” She shivered at the thought of flying from tree to tree on a zip line.

Susanne laughed. “Yeah, I know. Not your idea of romance?”

“No! If I sink into your arms, I want it to be because your kisses make me weak in the knees, not because I’m toppling over in sheer panic.”

“Well, I didn’t have time to make a dessert, so we can test out if I can actually make you topple over after dinner.”

Even though she wanted to savor every bite of the delicious lasagna, Anja found herself eating a little faster.

After dinner, they worked together to clear the table, rinse the dirty dishes, and put them in the dishwasher. It felt very domestic, and Anja found that she loved those quiet moments when their hands brushed as she handed plates to Susanne.

Once the kitchen was clean, Susanne led her over to the couch.

Muesli was still sitting on the other side of the French doors, and he started tapping on the glass when he saw them.

Susanne gave a weary sigh. “Want to let him in?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On?”

Anja smiled. “If he stays outside, is there an alternative source for some cuddles?”

Susanne tapped her chin as if having to think about it. “I guess since I’m the hostess, I could provide some.”

“Poor you.” Anja put on a faux sympathetic expression. “That sounds like a horrible sacrifice.”

Susanne nodded gravely. “Yeah, but someone’s gotta do it.”

Anja rose and pretended to head to the French doors. “If it’s such a hardship to you, I’m sure we could get Muesli to—”

With a firm grasp on her corduroy-covered hips, Susanne pulled her back and turned her around. Her lips found Anja’s, gentle at first, then, when Anja wrapped her arms around her and drew her closer, nipping and teasing with more heat.

Anja’s legs went to jelly, and she sank back onto the couch. Susanne tasted like tomatoes and wine, and Anja instantly felt drunk on her.

When Susanne’s mouth left hers, Anja let out a groan of protest, which turned into a low moan as Susanne kissed her throat and slid one hand between them to trace the bare skin just above the neckline of her top.

Oh God.

Almost drowsy with pleasure, Anja couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Not that she needed to see. Her other senses took over as she tugged the shirt from the back of Susanne’s slacks and slipped her hands beneath to caress the warm, soft skin.