Chapter Twelve

Roman

I wake beside Tessa. Last night, she stirred a few times. I was instantly alert, aware of her every gesture or expression. She settled back to sleep and I watched her as the firelight cast shadows across her face.

Without the heat, the room got cold. She lay close, pressed against me all night, a perfect fit.

Now that the sun is up, I can enjoy the sight even more. Her long lashes. Her full lips. Her creamy skin. I roll out of bed, wince and groan. My cock’s hard and painfully aware of the beautiful, naked woman in my bed. Last night I tasted her virgin pussy and made her scream. She’s gorgeous first thing in the morning and I’d like to draw her into my arms and explore more of her delicious curves, but I need to clear my head.

The heat is back on, so I make coffee. She emerges a short time later, wearing my bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. The moment our eyes meet, her cheeks flame with color and instantly we’re both thinking about what happened last night. I feel a twinge of guilt. I should feel a hell of a lot more than a twinge. I’d talked about being a perfect gentleman, but I hadn’t planned on the electricity going out. I didn’t imagine her ending up in my bed the second night she was here.

“The heat’s back on.” She gives me a playful smile. “I suppose I can sleep in my own bed tonight.”

I cross the room, gather her in my arms, and kiss her. She has to grab the towel on her head to keep it from falling, but she returns the kiss. Instantly my body responds to her. Lust burns through my veins. I can barely keep myself from lifting her into my arms and carrying her back to bed. Last night she wanted to touch me, make me come, but I didn’t like the idea of her being in pain. I break the kiss, before I lose control.

“Let me make you breakfast.”

My voice is gruff, but if she notices, she doesn’t let on.

Reluctantly, I step away from her and return to the kitchen. Soon I have bacon sizzling in a pan, and eggs frying, sunny-side up, in another. Tessa leans one hip against the counter, sips coffee and watches me.

I smile. “Am I doing it right?”

“You’re doing great. You’re a natural.”

We sit together, side-by-side at the bar in my kitchen and eat breakfast. It’s a gorgeous, sunny day. Light streams through the windows, everything blanketed in snow below. She sits in my robe, her hair wet and tousled, face without any makeup. She’s so beautiful that I have to force myself to keep from staring.

I notice how she keeps the conversation light and focused directly on a subject matter she knows and enjoys. Food. We debate everything and agree on nothing. Proper chili should have beans, according to Tessa. Some chili can even be made with beans and green tomatoes. I shake my head, feigning horror.

“Green chili? I don’t know about that, sweetheart.”

After breakfast, she gets a text message from Jim Thomas at the Com Center. They haven’t been able to get anyone to sign up for the dinner shift. He wants to know if she can come help. I want to toss her phone out the window, let if fall into a snowdrift thirty stories down, because when it comes to sharing Tessa, I’m a selfish bastard.

Our family has given them money in the past. Checks with lots of zeroes. But that doesn’t mean I want to let Tessa go. The city is mostly shut down, I reason. She probably wouldn’t be able to get there anyway.

“I wonder if I can find out if the buses are running,” she murmurs as she scrolls through newsfeeds.

“What makes you think I’ll let you go?”

Without looking up, she laughs like I’m being hilarious. She’s certain I wouldn’t keep her from helping, and I won’t, but I realize how much I want her all to myself. With a growl, I get to my feet and wander to the window. The snowplows are out already which means the major roads are either clear or will be soon.

“The buses are running between noon and nine. I should be able to get done before the last bus.”

“I’ll take you.”

Her brows lift. Her jaw drops. “Really?”

“Really. I’ll help you. I don’t want you there by yourself or short-staffed.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Roman, I don’t know what to say. That’s so sweet.”

Sweet? I’m not being sweet, but if she wants to think so, I won’t try to change her mind. Over the course of the day, we watch a movie, eat lunch. Joke and laugh. Almost have a serious make-out session in the kitchen and elevator, but she manages to keep everything low-key. I see the retreat in her eyes. I’m not going to seduce her till she’s healed anyway, so I manage to hold back. If only to save my own sanity.

As mid-afternoon approaches, there aren’t any further updates from Thomas. It looks like it’s just me and Tessa on KP, so I call Damon and Claire. I tell them the situation and that I need their help. Both are aware of my obsession with Tessa and had a pretty good idea I’d make her mine at some point, but neither of them expected to get roped into her volunteer efforts. Damon agrees almost immediately. Which should worry me. Claire grumbles but finally relents. She loves the Com Center, but her volunteerism revolves around art museums.

We take the elevator down to the garage.

“I don’t know anything about cooking for a crowd,” I tell her. “Unless it’s bacon and eggs.”

Taking her hand, I lead her to my truck. I use this vehicle when we’ve had a snowstorm. The tires are bigger than most truck tires, and a special tread that’s made to handle the worst conditions. Since the truck is jacked up, I need to help Tessa into the cab.

At first, I hold out my hands, but she brushes them away. “I can do it.”

I stand back, arms folded and watch as she tries to climb up. After a few minutes of watching her legs kick with futile attempts to find a foothold, I simply take matters into my own hands. Literally. I grab her hips and give her a boost.

“You need to install a ladder for this thing,” she grumbles as we pull out of the garage.

We drive to the Com Center, and even though we have to turn around a few times because of road closures, we make the trip in about twenty minutes. When we get there, Damon and Claire meet us at the side door. Claire worked here with her student council back in high school, but Damon’s never been here before. He’s got a certain look in his eye, one that says you owe me.

I introduce both of them to Tessa who hangs back, shyly.

“If my brother’s being a dick to you, I’d be happy to kick his ass,” Damon offers.

Tessa blinks in surprise and takes a few steps back. Damon has that effect on people. At six-four, he’s the same height as me, but he’s a lot rougher looking. He prides himself as being a bad-ass Marine and mocks my four years in the Air Force. On top of that he’s got a lot of ink and his tats make him look like he might run a street gang. He likes the look and claims it adds to his street cred.

That may be, but it’s not working for Tessa. She gives me a look of alarm.

Claire laughs at her dismay. “Ignore them. That’s what I do.”

My sister hugs her and I see Tessa’s shoulders lower an inch or two.

As they step back, Claire’s gaze falls to Tessa’s ring and she shrieks. Her good-natured demeanor drops. She shoots me a look of outrage and then grabs Tessa’s hand.

“Holy shitballs, when did this happen?”

Tessa bites her lip as she looks down at the ring. The color drains from her face. “I should have left this at home.”

I hold out my hand. “Give it to me.”

She takes it off and hands it to me. Glancing around sheepishly, she mutters under her breath. “I’ve never had anything like that before.”

“It looks pretty on you,” Claire offers. “I can’t wait to hear about all this. But let’s get to work so we can take care of your peeps before we talk about the big day.”

Tessa gives a breathless laugh. “Right, time to get to work.”

She leads us inside to the volunteer sign-in table, and then into the kitchen. It’s empty. No one is there, and it doesn’t look like anything has been done. Damon looks around, his hands in his pockets, looking as out of place as I feel. Claire sets right to work, though, taking our coats and handing out aprons.

Damon glares at me as he ties the strings around his waist. He’s barely talking to me anyway, because I assigned him to a bodyguard detail. He’s not happy with me, but that’s too bad.

“We have two hours to get dinner and dessert ready,” Tessa announces.

“Is that enough time to make something decent?” Claire asks.

Tessa smiles. “It will be better than decent. You’ll see.”

Over the next two hours, I watch as Tessa takes command of the kitchen. Damon’s in charge of salad. The lettuce comes in bags, but Tessa has him add in extras like cucumber and shredded carrot. I’m in charge of making sauce for the barbeque chicken.

“You make your sauce from scratch?” Claire asks as she sautés several pounds of onions. “You know you can buy already made?”

“I know,” Tessa says. “But it’s better from scratch.”

When Damon and Claire aren’t paying attention, I come up behind Tessa, wrap my arm around her waist and kiss her neck. “I like being in the kitchen with my woman.”

She smiles and her cheeks pink. A short while later I make her blush again. She’s showing me how to ice a sheet cake. I put a big scoop in a disposable coffee cup, snap a lid on and set it aside.

“I want to take some of this white icing home,” I tell her.

“White icing.” She snickers. “It’s called buttercream.”

“I’m going to ice my favorite dessert when I get home with this buttercream.”

“There will probably be leftover cake, if you want.”

I shake my head, checking to make sure Damon and Claire are out of earshot. “I prefer eating my dessert at home.”

Her smile falters as her gaze drifts from me to the cup of icing and back again. “At home…”

“That’s right. I want to enjoy my dessert in my bedroom.”

“Dessert in your bedroom…”

I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I want my dessert tied to my headboard while I lick the buttercream from her body.”

Her mouth falls open and her cheeks flame crimson.

“Hey, quit flirting, you two,” Claire yells from the other side of the kitchen.

After that, Tessa blushes every time I catch her eye. I’m sure she’s trying to avoid me to keep from getting flustered. She runs the kitchen with calm and precision. I’ve never seen food preparation on this scale. Fifty pounds of chicken takes up a lot of oven space. I help her load the pans into the hot oven and soon the aroma of the chicken baking with the savory sauce fills the air.

By five twenty, the food is ready to go. Tessa and Claire slice the cake into squares and set it out on plates. Damon eyes the food hungrily, but Claire shoos him away. At precisely five thirty, Tessa opens the doors to the cafeteria, and dinner for a hundred is officially underway.