It had been ages since I’d flirted with a woman, let alone had one flirt back.Is that what we were doing here?
I swallowed, plate still in my hand, and forced a nod. “Yeah?”
She slid her chair back and stood, sweater falling into place over her hips, the hem skimming her thighs in a way that made my attention snag and my patience with my own body evaporate. She moved with that unthinking confidence of someone who didn’t have to plan every step, every pivot, every reach. Shegathered the rest of the dishes as if it were nothing—just a normal night, in a normal kitchen, and a normal man sharing a meal with her.
I gestured toward the glasses in her hand. “I’ll do those too.”
Clara glanced up, a beat of surprise passing over her face before she masked it. “Oh, I know. You already made the rule.” Her eyes flashed with playful amusement.
I shook my head.
New rule: Stop imagining your friend’s sister naked, you fuckwad.
I focused on rinsing the dishes and stacking them into the dishwasher, keeping my movements careful, my expression neutral, my mind locked on the mechanics of the task.
Clara joined me at the sink anyway, shoulder to shoulder, close enough that the warmth of her bled through the air between us. The faucet roared to life, hot water steaming up. Plates clinked softly, a domestic sound that hadn’t been heard in my house in a long time. The scent of her perfume cut through the lingering garlic and meat sauce. Winter light pressed against the windows, dim and slate-colored, snow drifting past the pines like the world was being erased one flake at a time.
Clara slid a dish under the stream and hummed under her breath—quiet, absent, like she couldn’t help it—before passing it to me to stack in the dishwasher.
I grabbed a towel from the drawer, snapping it once like that could shake the tension off my skin. “I’ve got it,” I muttered.
Her eyes cut to me. “I’m not trying to steal your job, Wes.”
The way she said my name—flat, matter of fact, no pity tucked inside it—hit harder than it should have. Clara Darling had a mouth that knew how to turn words into trouble. Tonight, I was trying to keep them from doing exactly that.
Her eyebrows rose as she handed me a freshly rinsed glass.
Our hands grazed.
It wasn’t even a full touch, just skin against skin—my fingers brushing the side of hers for the smallest fraction of a second—but my entire body reacted like she’d pressed her palm to my chest. Heat climbed, fast and sharp. My stomach tightened. Somewhere lower, something hungry shifted.
Clara’s breath caught, quiet and unmistakable, and her fingers lingered that half heartbeat too long before she pulled back. Her gaze flicked to my face, then away, quick as a blink. A flush rose along her cheeks. The focus she suddenly found in the dish she was rinsing did not help.
The air in the kitchen thickened until it felt hard to breathe.
My brain reached for the easiest place to put the blame.
Proximity. That was all this was. A normal reaction to a beautiful woman in my space.
My body disagreed, loud and immediate.
It remembered things it had no business remembering. The weight of a woman straddling my lap and moaning when I stretched her open. The slide of bare skin under my hands. The way my mouth could make her forget she was anything but alive.
I’d been a damn good lover, and I missed the way a woman could use my body while I used hers. I missed the casual fun of a good fuck. Nothing about Clara Darling could ever be casual. She was the kind of woman you changed your plans for.
Now my body was nothing but a problem I carried around—something to manage, compensate for, apologize for without ever saying the words.
Clara’s fingers moved with quick efficiency, bringing a pan to the sink and making the kitchen look like it belonged to someone who lived there instead of someone who survived there. Her shoulder bumped mine lightly as she reached past me for another plate. The contact was accidental and small.
It still hit me like a shove.
I shifted my stance, cursing under my breath as phantom pain flared, my nerves firing in a place that no longer existed. My jaw clenched. My breath went shallow.
Clara’s head turned, a question rising in her eyes.
I stiffened before she could ask it. “I’m fine,” I said sharply, like it was an answer to something. Like it would stop her from seeing what she saw.
Clara blinked, then dipped her chin. “Okay.”