“I don’t get what the harm would be in just attending one little event.” Sophia snatched the wooden spoon off the granite countertop and stirred the simmering, chicken tortilla soup. Hearing that her father’s numbers had dropped in the polls had put her on edge.

Blayze set out bowls and spoons before crossing over to where the cups were—right beside Sophia. He leveled a severe look at her while retrieving three glasses.

Her cheeks flushed, and a warm tingly rush surged through her chest. Sophia hadn’t stopped being affected by Blayze, but he didn’t have to know that. Not after the way he’d sent her packing when she’d tried to cuddle up to him a few nights ago. The memory itself was brutal.

“I think you already know the harm, Sophia, because you and I have had this same conversation every day for the last four days.”

Irritation reared up hard. “You have no idea what it does to me to know that my father’s numbers are slipping, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I understand,” he said. “But the most dangerous part about staying here, is the coming and going part. Why risk doing that when we don’t have to?”

Sophia shook her head. “We need fresh ingredients here, anyway. We could get it all done at the same time.” Sophia leaned her head over the soup. It was one of those dry packaged soups with the seasonings, tortilla crisps, rice, and beans. She’d added canned chilies, canned chicken, and canned tomatoes too. And while she could admit that the soup—like the other packaged and canned options—was good, she was dying to eat something fresh. Lettuce, fruit, cheese. Heck, she’d even be happy with frozen stuff.

Roman barreled up the basement stairwell, patting at his pockets like he’d dropped something.

“It’s time to eat,” she told him.

“Thank you, Sophia. After dinner I’ve got to take a trip to the nearest pharmacy and pick up a prescription,” he said. “Did I overhear you saying you’d like to make a list? I’d be happy to pick up some produce, frozen foods, whatever you’d like.”

Accepting Roman’s offer was like accepting defeat where the speaking engagements were concerned, but she wasn’t about to turn down the chance to have fresh ingredients in the place. “Yeah,” she said, “let me make up a list. Thank you.” She twisted the stovetop knob to warm and snatched one of Blayze’s pens and notebooks from the drawer by the garage.

“Would you like anything specific?” she asked Roman.

“A few of those granola bars would be nice. Put that down. Oh, and write fishing bait on there too. I’ll know the kind I want.”

“So, you’re blaming the bait now?” Blayze razzed.

Roman shot him a wide-eyed look. “I caught some easily enough the first night, didn’t I?”

“With different bait?” Blayze asked. When Roman hedged, Sophia laughed.

“Looks like he’s got you there,” she said.

“Yeah, well there was probably only those four fish in the entire pond.”

This time Blayze joined in on the laughter. “Well then, why don’t you just put fresh fish on that list, Sophia. We’ll have him pick up some of that instead.”

Roman attempted his angry face but a smile broke through. “Don’t you even think of writing fish on that list, chiquita. I won’t buy it.”

Sophia sighed and shook her head. “Let’s see, if you get me some whole milk, eggs, a few other ingredients, I could make my madre’s Natillas de Leche. Halloween’s coming up. It could be a special treat for us.” It was no secret they wouldn’t see so much as one trick-or-treater during the holiday.

“Oh man, it’s been ages since I’ve had that,” Roman said.

The three of them gathered around the table with their bowls of soup. Sophia brought the list along too, adding to it as they shared family favorites. Blayze spoke of times when he was overseas. The supplies each SEAL had in their pack.

“Nothing makes you miss Mom’s cooking like being overseas, I’ll tell you that much.” He glanced at Sophia after saying it, his smile falling suddenly. As if he’d only then realized that he’d never taste his mom’s cooking again. Or even share a meal with her. Not in this lifetime.

Sophia gave him a weak smile, her eyes threatening to tear up. “What were some of your favorite dishes from her?” she asked.

“Pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Seriously the best things ever.”

“Mmm, I love anything with pumpkin.” Sophia had a good recipe for those as well. With that thought, she jotted the necessary ingredients on the list. Roman would be at the store all night at this rate.

“Well,” Roman said, coming to a stand. He patted his chest, then his pockets, before spinning to look at Blayze. “Not used to being without a set of keys, I guess. Must have left them in my room.”

Blayze looked down at the table, seeming to rub out an invisible spot with his thumb while Roman retrieved his keys. “See you kids in a bit. Behave yourselves while I’m gone, okay?”

“We’ll try,” Sophia said.

The door closed, and Blayze let his eyes drift up to her at last. Heat flared in his gaze as his brow furrowed, just slightly, as if he were warring with himself over something. Over her.

“Blayze?”

The brows lifted now.

“I… just so that we’re understood…” Her face got hot as a rush of embarrassment spread up her cheeks. “When I climbed into bed with you the other night, I had no intention of letting things go far between us. I think it’s important that you know that.”

He dropped his gaze back to the table before looking to her once more.

“I’m not a woman who just—”

“I know you’re not,” he said. “I like that about you.”

An odd dose of longing fell over her. A nagging desire to be wrapped in Blayze’s big, strong arms and held. The events over the last few weeks—having to surrender and go into hiding— had left her feeling weak and vulnerable. Being rejected by Blayze hadn’t helped. An immature part of her wanted to get even with him. Wanted to make him regret turning her down. The better part of her sensed that he genuinely meant what he’d said. That he was interested in her and wanted to put things on hold because of that.

Blayze reached for the bowls before him and headed over to the sink. Sophia snatched the glasses and napkins off the table and came up behind him as the sink filled. Her gaze settled on the growing mound of suds, thin wisps of steam dissipating as they rose.

She closed her eyes, leaned back against the counter, and willed the encompassing need for him away.

“I’ll take these,” Blayze mumbled.

She tuned into the clank of glasses, the clutter of silverware, and the distinct sounds of him loading each piece into the dishwasher. A small creak told her he’d closed it, though she didn’t open her eyes to see. By now she could feel him looking at her. Getting closer to her.

And at last, reaching a hand around the curve of her hip. So strong. So warm.

Her senses came alive like they’d been sleeping for ages. Blayze’s masculine, woodsy smell overwhelmed her. It was so him. As if he were born right here among the redwoods and had taken on their scent as his own. She breathed him in and sighed.

Blayze nudged his strong body flush against her, nuzzled his face into her hair. “Dang Roman for leaving us alone,” he murmured. At once his heated mouth was on her neck, trailing kisses toward her earlobe in a hungry appeal.

Sophia tipped her head to one side, inviting him to take more as a whimper sounded somewhere deep in her throat. Goosebumps rushed over her skin as he did just that. Running the tip of his tongue along her earlobe before grazing her skin with his teeth. He groaned, then pressed a series of hot kisses back down her neck.

At once he pulled back, just barely, and Sophia opened her eyes to look at him through lazy lids. He searched her face, and she could sense the war happening in his head.

Please, Blayze. Just give into it for a moment.

His gaze dropped to her lips before moving up to her eyes once more. “Sophia,” he murmured, and pressed his mouth to hers in a driven kiss. A claiming kiss.

Mmm… yes. She was his in that moment, and not a person alive could argue it.

Sophia sank into the bliss of his masterful lips while exploring the span of his broad, muscled back. When the craving to feel his skin beneath her palms came, she slid her hands up the back of his head, fisting his short hair. “Si, mi amado,” she urged between kisses, his breath hot and mingling with hers.

The words seemed to trigger something in Blayze, because suddenly he was grasping her hips and lifting her onto the counter. Just as he came in for another kiss, Sophia realized how quickly things could move. Already she had visions of him taking her into the master bedroom in case Roman returned.

Blayze was probably right to stop things the other night; who knew if self-control and a kiss this good could exist in the same place? Still, she fed on the moment, let it fill the longing she had for him, assuring herself that he’d felt the same all along.

Yet, as his kisses grew slower and deeper, Blayze’s mouth casting a spell over her, Sophia realized that she might need to be the one to stop things.

“Blayze,” she mumbled against his lips before pulling back slightly. The back of her head rested against the cabinet now.

Blayze only moved in to take her lips again. And then once more, before replying. “Yeah?” Another kiss.

“Don’t you think we should…”

His body froze, all but the single brow he lifted in response. “Should what?”

Sophia grinned. She couldn’t help it. He looked so clueless as to what she might say.

“We should stop,” he blurted.

Her smile broadened, even through the regret of having to stop something so magnificent. “That’s what I was going to say.”

He nodded, looking her up and down where she rested on the counter.

“What did you think I was going to say?” she razzed.

Blayze shook his head while he helped her down. “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. Tell me.”

His face reddened. He turned away from her, took a sudden interest in the dishwasher panel, though the thing wasn’t even running.

“Come on,” she pled, catching his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her.

Blayze shook his head. “It’s like you’re my kryptonite, or something.”

Sophia considered that. “Like on Superman?”

He nodded, dragged a hand over his face. “I’ve never felt so… out of control.”

Sophia shouldn’t even admit it to herself, but she loved hearing that. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not exactly the woman of steel around you either.”

He chuckled. “Good to know.” He snatched an iPad off the counter top and strode toward the seating area by the rock-mantled fireplace.

Sophia fetched a fresh washcloth from the nearby drawer and dunked it into the heated suds. For a moment, the two remained quiet. Blayze hovered over the screen of his device, Sophia wiping the table and countertops.

“Didn’t you say you were going to take a bath tonight?” he asked from his spot on the couch.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” she asked with a laugh.

Blayze’s mouth dropped open, but he snapped it shut and glanced down at the screen in his hand.

“Are you looking over the suspects?” she asked. Earlier that day, Blayze had told her he wanted to go over them with her after dinner.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why don’t we go over them before I hop in the bathtub?”

Blayze eyed the door leading to the garage before glancing back at her. “Because I’m still thinking about getting you back on that counter and picking up where we left off.”

The words sent a delicious thrill through her chest, the tingling sensation carrying over her skin.

“I’m sure you and I can agree that that wouldn’t be the best idea under the circumstances,” Blayze continued, as if he were still trying to convince himself.

Sophia nodded. “All right then. I’ll go take a bath.” She held back the smile that threatened, but only until she made it to the loft. While retrieving her bath bag and other needed items, Sophia allowed the grin to come on full force, feeling satisfied that perhaps Blayze’s feelings for her were similar to hers after all.