“Fine.” She finally answered him. “Thanks for helping with the groceries, Gordy. But just so you know, that name makes you sound like some freckle-faced teenaged comic book character.”

“Pretty sure the kids call them graphic novels these days, Vickie.” He put the flour on the shelf, calling out to her from inside the pantry. “Sorry it took so long for the decking to arrive, but now that it’s here, you should be back out there enjoying the view in no time. The framing and footers are all set, so it’ll go quick. The color looks nice with the house.”

Vickie carried a few cans of diced tomatoes and sauce into the small pantry just as he turned to come out. She couldn’t stop fast enough, and nearly dropped the cans. Gordon... Gordy...caught the first one that fell and stepped in close to help her hold on to the rest, his arm wrapping around her waist as he pushed her back against the wall. They both froze. She forgot what a big man he was—inches taller than her, with shoulders that were currently blocking her view of the door.

“Umm...thanks.” She stammered the words. Neither of them made any effort to move.

“For what?”

“Uh...what?” She’d gotten lost in his blue eyes and couldn’t remember what they were talking about.

He chuckled, his breath blowing soft across her cheek. When had he gotten that close? And could he get closer, please?

“What are you thanking me for?” He took the cans she was holding and set them on the shelf. Then he rested his hand on her cheek. “Or should I say...what would you like to thank me for?”

Vickie didn’t move.

“I’m too old for this, Gordy.”

“Too old for what?” His voice dropped even lower.

“For necking in the pantry as if we’re hiding from my parents.”

“We’re not necking. We’re...staring. Necking involves at least one kiss.” He grinned. “Wanna neck?”

She intended to look offended. Or at least skeptical. Intimidating would work, too. Instead, she laughed.

“Come on, this is silly—” She gasped when he ducked his head and brushed his lips on hers. Her pulse fluttered. Oh, my.

“Does that feel silly to you?”

“Gordy...”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but... One little kiss wouldn’t hurt anything.

“No, you don’t want me to stop?” Gordy asked in a whisper.

“Stop being such a damn gentleman and kiss me!”

She didn’t have to ask twice. His hand slid behind her head and his mouth landed on hers, hard with need. She’d kissed men in the past fifteen years. Polite, end of date kisses. She’d once told her friends that it seemed men lost interest in kissing after a certain age. But that all changed in her kitchen pantry late on a sunny June afternoon.