I opened my eyes and saw tee.

“Is this really your favorite tee?” I whispered against the fabric.

I felt his body still for a brief moment before I felt his whiskers pull at my hair as he slid his jaw down the side of my head.

Then he whispered in my ear, “Yeah.”

“It’s old and ratty-assed,” I informed him.

“Exactly,” he informed me.

I closed my eyes again. Then I smiled. The smile faded from my lips as I opened my eyes and tilted my head back. His came up with mine and I looked into his quicksilver eyes.

“Do you want me to stop by the store and pick up some Bud on the way home from the shower?” I asked softly and the mood shifted in the room again. It got warm and heavy, sultry, sweet.

My favorite mood of his. Bar none.

Damn, I missed that too.

“Yeah, baby,” he answered softly.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes and then he opened them and dipped his head.

He kissed me, light and gentle at first, then warm, heavy, sultry, and sweet.

My toes curled and my fingers did too, right into his ratty-assed tee at his back.

Okay, okay. Seriously.

I missed this most of all.

He lifted his head and his hand at mine shifted around to the side of my neck, taking my hair with it, his thumb moving out to catch me under the chin and keep me facing him.

“Where you movin’, darlin’?”

“Kentucky.”

He did a slow blink. Then he asked, “Kentucky?”

I shrugged.

He grinned.

Then he said quietly, “All right, baby, we’ll talk about that later too.”

“Okay,” I said quietly back.

His eyes moved over my face before his hand shifted up so his thumb could glide over my cheek, my lips. He dipped his head and put his lips where his thumb was for a brief touch and pulled away.

“Later, babe,” he whispered.

“Later, Slim.”

That got me a full-blown, striking white smile.

My toes curled again.

Then he was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR

Committed to His Job

“THIS CAKE IS so beautiful it’s a shame to cut it!” Ada cried right before she dug right into the huge cake I’d made for her shower.

I smiled a polite smile as the abundance of women tittered around me excitedly at the thought of getting their free slice of a Tessa O’Hara cake. Not to brag or anything but my cakes and cupcakes had been written up in the local papers because they looked as good as they tasted. My bakery was shoulder to shoulder from open to close, ten to seven, seven days a week. That cake was homemade yellow cake with vanilla buttercream frosting. Simple but a winner. Even I knew they were in for a treat.