Take Me Home by Nancy Herkness Page B

the back of the chair, and he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. As he leaned forward to take a bite, the familiar errant lock of hair fell onto his forehead. She wanted to slide onto his lap and burrow into the expanse of blue silk spanning his chest, hiding from the disaster of the evening.
    “Hungry?” he asked. “I’ll heat up a plate for you.”
    “Thanks, but I’ll pass for now.” The spike and drop of adrenaline had killed her appetite. Claire sank into the chair across from him, her full skirt spilling over the arms.
    Putting down the fork, he wiped his chin before speaking. “They’re going to send a patrol car by here regularly. He also promised to send the locksmith over first thing in the morning.”
    “Thank you!” Claire slumped back in her chair. “I tried to talk her into changing the locks on the day Frank announced he wanted a divorce. She wouldn’t hear of it.”
    “Sometimes it takes a while to come to terms with a harsh reality,” Tim said, his tone sober now. He reached across the table and opened his hand palm up, an invitation to comfort. Claire hesitated only a moment before placing her hand against thewarmth of his palm. She felt the calluses on his fingertips brush her skin as he carefully closed them.
    That was all it took, just that minor point of contact, and she became aware of him across every inch of her body. Why had she never before noticed that his lower lip had a full, sensuous swell that made her want to trace it with her tongue?
    “Folks don’t always want to admit things have gone wrong in their lives, and it’s especially hard to admit it to family,” Tim was saying, his low rumble of a voice sending delicious little vibrations dancing along her spine.
    Claire shivered as the heat of his hand licked up her arm and melded with all the other sensations his presence fanned into being.
    “Are you cold?” he asked, letting go of her hand and reaching around for his jacket. “Take this.”
    He stood and draped the jacket over her shoulders. “Mmm, much better,” she said, pulling it close around her so she could feel the body heat where he had sat against it and smell the scent of clean male. It was as close as she could get to having his arms around her. “I think it’s relief. You’ve just solved all my short-term problems.”
    “Maybe I’m your whisper human,” he said, his big hands cupping her shoulders and his mouth close to her ear. “Tell me your troubles and they’ll go away.”
    Claire shivered again as his breath feathered over her cheek. “That’s a nice thought, but more burden than I’d ask anyone else to bear.”
    He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before he released them. “I’m in better shape than Willow is for bearing burdens.” He returned to his chair and picked up his fork again. “My apologies for eating when you’re not. It takes a fair amount of fuel to keep me going.”
    “I feel terrible. You should be eating four-star haute cuisine instead of mystery casserole.” She watched the play of muscles inhis throat as he swallowed and thought about feeling them move against her lips.
    “The casserole is right tasty. Why don’t we try for the haute cuisine again tomorrow night?”
    Claire yearned to say yes so she could sit across another table and bask in the quiet power of this man. “It sounds great, but I have another commitment tomorrow night. May I have a rain check?”
    “Sure. We’ll aim for next weekend,” he said, but she sensed a slight withdrawal.
    She felt compelled to offer an explanation. “I’ve been challenged to a foosball match by an old friend.” Of course, she was going to cancel it, in light of Holly’s situation. However, she didn’t intend to tell Tim that since he might insist on staying with Holly again.
    “You play foosball?”
    It was the first time she’d seen him look startled, and it pleased her that she’d been able to ruffle his usually placid exterior. “Why are you so