I offer her a slice of sausage, but instead, she hooks me around my neck and draws me close for another kiss. It’s lusty and sensual and gives me a little taste of the marshmallowy cocoa I brought for her.
I set down the knife and return the kiss. She releases a soft, satisfied hum that makes me forget how hungry I am for lunch. Maybe we should have started with kisses and satisfied a different kind of appetite instead.
She leans away, laughing a little. “I guess I’m saying that if you’re trying to impress me, it’s working.”
“Then I’ll be sure to keep doing it.” I lean in for another kiss that takes me far too long to pull away from. I thought maybe we’d get cold in the truck so I made sure to throw in my extra gear, but the windows are already starting to fog up at the corners.
Her face lights up. “You made brownies?”
“My grandma did. She’s been sending me care packages.”
“That’s so sweet.” She glances back through the binoculars, and I watch her profile for a moment longer. Memorize the gentle pursing of her lips. The way her silky hair falls in long waves over her shoulders.
“She says baking keeps her out of trouble,” I reply.
“Sounds like my kind of gal.”
The thought of bringing Linnea to meet the two most importantpeople in my life soothes that knot in my throat. Grams would instantly bond with Linnea’s bold spirit and the way she’s so open and genuine. Grandpa wouldn’t talk much but he’d be as spellbound as I am.
Linnea picks up the apple. “Okay if we share this?”
I was going to cut it into slices, but her plan is better. “Sure.”
While gazing through the binoculars again with one hand, she takes a bite of the apple with the other, the juice dribbling past her lips. “Where do your grandparents live now?”
“One of those retirement type places.” I shrug. “It was a tough transition, but they’re settled now.”
Her caring gaze finds mine, and she sets the binoculars in her lap. “That must have been hard, leaving them.” She takes another bite and wipes the corner of her mouth with the edge of her wrist.
While she chews I take the apple and bite off a chunk. “I’ll move them up here if I end up staying.”
She frowns. “If?”
I swallow my bite. “I don’t have my assigned district yet.”
“But you’re here mentoring with Dad.” The deep furrow wrinkling her brow makes me want to reach up and smooth it with my thumb. Or maybe I just want an excuse to touch her. “I thought?—”
“It’s not permanent. They could move me if they want.” I lick the apple juice from my mustache. “If your dad doesn’t recommend me for it, who knows where they’ll put me.”
“I see.” She takes the apple back and swivels it for a fresh spot. I’ve noticed she likes bites that have a layer of skin and clean flesh beneath, not the ones closer to the core, where it’s more tart.
“Would you have taken a state biologist job if it was in a different district?” I slice up some of the cheese and layer it with a round of venison on a cracker and hand it to her. When she trades me the apple for it, our fingertips brush, and our eyes lock for one quick, magnetic moment I feel in my toes.
“I don’t know.” She brings the cracker to her lips, cuppingbeneath her chin with her other hand to catch the crumbs. Her hum of appreciation brings a pleasant, weighted warmth to my thighs. “There was a federal job I applied for, but I could have ended up in Florida.”
“What’s so bad about Florida?” I nibble the last of the apple, savoring the tart, firm flesh that hugs the core.
“For starters, alligators and snakes.” She takes another bite, her plush lips hugging the edges of the cracker.
I pause my nibbling to grin at her. “Did you know that alligators’ eyes glow in the dark? Or that the mothers care for their babies, unlike most reptiles?”
She cocks her head, amusement shining in her eyes. “I did not know that.” She pops the last of her bite in her mouth, then licks up the cracker crumbs from her palm with the tip of her tongue.
I force my gaze away from her mouth. “Then l bet you didn’t know that the Florida pine snake is one of the few that can actually hiss. They’re totally harmless too. In fact, only six of the forty-six native species of snake in Florida are venomous.”
“Interesting,” she says with a laugh. “But I would probably still die of heat stroke in the first week. And if those things didn’t get me, homesickness would.”
“I’m glad you’re not in Florida.” I load up another cracker and hand it to her, then make one for myself. The fancy cheddar with the salty venison and the crunchy cracker is a supreme combo.