Double Dare by Melissa Whittle Page A

hadn’t even cracked a smile. Her shoulders were shaking from pent up laughter, but she handed him the bowl, and didn’t move back to her seat. She didn’t think he would mind that she was in his space.
    “I’m not sure if I should thank you,” she said.
    “Not necessary.” He shrugged. “From the way you describe him, it’s a public service. Your hair looks nice, too.”
    Emma couldn’t keep up with him and had to admit she liked that. “Where’d you learn to cook?”
    “My mom. You didn’t wait at the table with your fork at the ready. Helped that my father served in the military and started off as a cook. They were a team in everything.”
    She softened. “You miss them.”
    “They made me who I am.” He didn’t say it with a contemplative look, but as sure as he was that the sun would rise. “Who made you, Emmaline?”
    The question was far from simple, but it put her at ease. “My grams bought me a ready-bake oven I detested.”
    “Why?”
    She pursed her lips with uncertainty over the confession. “Everything that came out of it was crap.”
    “Sounds like you were a food critic even then.”
    “No. Discriminatory with my tastebuds.” She paused watching his hands cup around the cheese he had chopped into fine slithers. “She taught my mother how to cook and my mother taught me the basics.”
    “Your father?”
    “A man of few words, but plenty of actions that said he loved his family. Even when he got dirty looks, he’d hold a door for a woman.”
    He nodded. “Why the gentleman thing gets to you.”
    “I get my soft from him. He’d look at my mother and you could see he thought she was his everything. They bought the house I live in now when she was pregnant with me. Forty. They had a good fifteen years together before I came along and I never felt like I didn’t add to their marriage.”
    She could see him doing the math in his head. “They married a bit late for the time.”
    “My mother took some convincing. Dad had his mind set that no one else could make him happy. Mom always said, ‘damned if the man wasn’t right.’” She smiled at the memory.
    “You miss them.” The tenderness in his voice washed over her.
    She swallowed, because they were gone. They were gone because they loved her. Dark thoughts for a light evening, so she pushed them away. “You put a pound of mayo in that stuff.”
    She watched him add vinegar to the pasta and the carrots still needed to be grated. “Want me to help?” she asked
    He gestured to the cabinet next to him. “Grate two and just leave it in the bowl. It’s only a cup of mayonnaise.”
    “I could be allergic to eggs.”
    “You wouldn’t be a baker, otherwise you’d be screwed,” He pointed out and then added, “Relax.”
    She took another sip of her wine. “I am.”
    He stopped and looked at her. “You keep eyeing the exit.”
    “No, I’m not.” Though she had been. Emma rinsed the carrots before picking up the grater. “I’m pointing out all the things you seem so sure about. I’m actually enjoying myself.”
    “You can be tense.” His gaze went to her mouth and Tobias didn’t have to say what he wanted to do with her bottom lip. “And still enjoy yourself. You can also stop looking for a possible exit route. You can go for the drive and when you’re ready to get off, one will magically appear. I promise you.”
    He had a point. Right now she was enjoying the ride. “How big?” She picked up the grate.
    She saw the light spark behind his gaze. “The smallest grate.” His laugh was soft and barely audible when the tense moment passed. “Thought I’d say something else?”
    “No.”
    Heat rushed into her face and she took out her embarrassment on the carrots by grating the hell out of them. He reached around her for the bowl, placing his body behind hers. Without thought, she arched back, wanting to press against the hard length of him. Need curled in her belly and weakened her resolve.
    His lips brushed her