“First of all, you don’t need to apologize for anything—and I offered to drive you to your place, mostly for selfish reasons.”

“What’s selfish about going out of your way for someone else?”

“I wanted to spend more time with you, Lainey, without coming across as too forward or pushy.” Or scaring you off. Which seems likely with how nervous she is most of the time. I’m getting used to it, though, and it’s pretty damn endearing.

“Oh.” Her tongue sweeps across her bottom lip as she contemplates that bit of honesty. “Well, in that case, I didn’t bring the beer over just as an apology and a thank-you—I wanted to see you again too.”

“And here you are.”

“And here I am.” She blinks her big doe eyes at me, a small, shy smile on her full lips.

“If you haven’t figured it out already, I’m really happy about that, and not just because you make kick-ass twice-baked potatoes.”

That blush of hers amps up a couple of shades of pink.

I skim her warm cheek with a knuckle.

“Do I have something on my face?” Her voice is soft and whispery.

“No. You’re blushing, and it’s sweet.” I tip my head down in silent request.

“I like the way that feels.” Lainey takes a small step forward and reaches up. Her breasts brush against my diaphragm, and her very warm, soft fingers caress my cheek, mirroring the touch.

“Am I blushing too?”

“Maybe.” She bites her lip to suppress a smile.

I dip down a little more. “Lainey?”

“Yes, RJ?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would, so please, yes.” She tips her chin up, and her eyes fall closed.

I curl my fingers around the delicate curve of her neck, feeling the heavy rush of blood pumping against my palm. I bend to touch my lips to hers. Her grip on my shoulders tightens, nails biting through my shirt as she makes the sweetest, softest sound. So of course I do it again—and again.

Lainey’s hand slides higher, fingertips dancing along my collar until they slip into the hair at the nape of my neck and tug. She parts her lips and flicks her tongue out. It’s all the confirmation I need that we’re on the same page. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me.

I suck her pouty bottom lip like I’ve wanted to since I met her and follow with a nibble. She gasps and pulls away, gaze darting from my mouth to my eyes and back. “I feel that through my whole body.”

“Should I do it again?”

She nods once and whispers, “Please, yes, and thank you.”

So I do it again, and I’m rewarded by yet another sweet gasp, followed by a low moan.

The kiss goes from tentative exploration to frantic in seconds. Dishes forgotten, we stand in front of the sink and make out. It feels a lot like it did when I was back in high school with my first-ever girlfriend, when everything was new. God, I’ve missed this: being with someone who’s genuinely into me. Not because I’m an NHL player—not because I have money, or a sweet ride, or any of the other reasons that typically draw women to me—but because we’re acting on a mutual attraction.

One of her hands roams over my chest and down my abs. I will it to go lower, but as soon as she reaches my belt she heads back up. I shift her a little so she’s pressed up against the counter. If there weren’t a pile of dirty dishes strewn all over it, I’d lift her up so I don’t have to bend down quite as far.

I want to run my hands all over her body, but I take into consideration all the things I’ve learned about her tonight. It sounds like she’s been pretty sheltered, so I let her take the lead and wait for her to make the next move.

She feels behind her, elbow bumping a pot on the counter and almost knocking over an empty glass. She makes a muffled sound of annoyance as she presses her hips into mine.

Lainey breaks the kiss long enough to suck in a deep breath and peek around me. I’m about to suggest we take it to the living room and that I’m more than happy to carry her there. Before I can say a word, she pulls my mouth back down to hers and sidesteps over to the table. The kiss grows sloppy and wet as she reaches around me. I try to figure out what she’s up to, but I can’t without separating our mouths again, which I’m really not inclined to do.

“Here, sit,” she mumbles into my mouth as the chair scrapes across the floor. She pushes on my shoulders, and I drop into the chair. Lainey follows, her ass resting on my thighs. Maybe I’m a little off base about how sheltered she is. I definitely should’ve moved this to the living room when I had the chance. The couch is way more comfortable. Lots of room for stretching out and lying down.

We kiss like we’ve been starving for each other, hands roaming but staying in mostly safe zones.

She rolls her hips, and I groan at the friction. Lainey goes stiff and still, gasping when she feels me. Her hands rest on my shoulders, and she pushes away, eyes wide.

“Oh my God.” She clambers out of my lap and backs up into the counter. “I am so sorry.”

Me too. Because I’m missing all of that soft and hot rubbing up on my aching, disappointed hard-on. “For what?” It’s mostly a croak.

“For throwing myself at you. I’m not usually so forward. I really don’t know what got into me.” The color rises in her cheeks. “I should probably head back to my cabin.” She smooths out her shirt and adjusts her jeans.