Page 37 of It's a Brewtiful Day
Elliot didn’t say a word, but there was a spread of crimson crawling up his neck until the light from the flameless candle flickered and went out.
He cleared his throat. “Well… guess I’ll need to come up with a better light source for the project.”
“What were you going to make?”
“It’s silly.”
“What? Nah, I don’t believe that. Try me.”
“Well… I was going to nail holes into a star pattern on a pie plate, keep them spaced close but not too close. You do two of them and attach a flameless candle in the middle of the star shape and seal the two sides together. It’s very pretty and adds to the ambience of the festival. We were going to make dozens next week before the event and set them up along the paths.”
I dug my elbow into the armrest and set my head into the palm of my hand. “That sounds incredible. But are you sealing them up just before you stake them? I’d think the battery would run out before too long.”
“Allegedly,” he pointed to the dead candle on our table, “they have a hundred-hour battery life.”
A soft snort fell out of me. “There’s always a dud in each package. Maybe that was it.”
“That would be my luck.” He grabbed a hunk of a bear claw and offered me the last slice of lemon loaf. “Try this.”
I accepted it, touching his hand and relishing the slight zing.
“But if they last as long as they claim, we can seal them Friday afternoon and they should be good for the whole weekend.”
“They should.” I bit into the lemon loaf and felt my tastebuds come alive with the zesty citrus flavour. In all my life, I’d never had a lemon loaf as flavourful as that was, and it was hard to keep my moans to myself.
“Good?” he asked with food in his mouth.
“Amazing.” My eye may have rolled into the back of my head.
“Nina actually makes that herself. It’s a family recipe apparently.”
“Five stars all the way. You’ve got to try it.” Before I could stop myself, I tore off a clean edge and thrust it toward his mouth.
Without warning, he opened for the piece, and I pushed the bite in past his soft, pouty lips, but let him take over when I felt the flicker of a tongue touch my fingertip. It was a rush. And a mistake. It had been a very intimate way to share food; like how Cassie and Chad often did it.
Unable to look away, I watched him for a repulsive look that never surfaced. Instead, his gaze was lightly heated with a building smirk, which inturn, heated my core.
He chewed slowly. Methodically. All the while his gaze stayed connected to me.
Without thinking, I sucked the lemony frosting off my fingertips.
His eyebrow rose as did the building smirk stretching out his lips.
I produced enough heat to once again warm the small space, but I couldn’t break away. I was curious to see how far I could go—how far he’d want to go.
However, movement outside grabbed my attention and while both thanking and cursing the break, I leapt to my feet, racing to the window.
“What do you see?” Elliot was by my side in a flash.
“An elk.”
“An elk? Really? Where?”
The large animal sauntered down the street like it was no big deal, and although it wasn’t unusual to see them roaming the streets, it was still something that caught me off-guard when it happened.
“Check out the size of its antlers.”
“Where? I still don’t see it.”