Page 12 of Smoky Mountain K-9

So, why did he wish it were more?

The interior light lit up as Mara opened her door. “Thanks for a wonderful evening, Carter. I had a nice time.”

“So did I.” He glanced over the seat at their artwork. “Let me help you with those.” He shut the truck off and opened his door, climbing out. Opening the rear door, he removed his painting. Mara grabbed hers, then he followed her to the front door.

She rooted in her purse for her keys, quickly finding them and letting them inside.

“Let’s set them on the dining table. They still need to dry.” She led him deeper into the house to the table in the far corner of the kitchen.

“Tell your brother I’m sorry for the eyesore about to be hung in his house.”

Mara laughed. “It’ll go in her room, most likely, so the only person who’ll have to look at it regularly will be Addie.”

“Good. Though, I’m not sure that’s the best place. It might give her nightmares and scar her for life.” He glanced at the painting. It really was a sorry sight. Mara should paint over it—preserving Thelma’s signature—and give her niece a better piece of art.

She lightly smacked his arm, smiling. “Stop it. You tried your best.”

He grinned. “I know. And it was fun.” His smile faded as he stared at her. “I’m glad your friend bid on me for you. I had a good time.” He still didn’t want it to end, but he really didn’t have a reason to linger. He glanced away. “Well, I guess I should be going.” Carter took a step back, but her hand on his arm made him pause.

“Wait. Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?”

“Coffee?”

She nodded, a blush staining her cheeks. “Yes. Or water. Or you could even have another glass of wine and stay awhile.”

The desire to do just that punched him in the gut. He could easily see himself staying all night. For more than a glass of wine. He swayed a step closer, eyes roving over her face to pause on her pouty, pink lips. The lance of fire that went straight to his groin sent common sense rolling back in. This was a bad idea. He’d never been the type to sleep with a woman on their first date. He’d never even had a one-night stand. Mara would not be the first.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to leave just yet. “How about some coffee? I have to work tomorrow, so I can’t stay too late.”

A flash of something flitted through her eyes—disappointment?—but then she smiled and anything he thought he saw disappeared.

“Me too.” She let out a soft giggle, turning toward the counter. “Coffee’s probably not the best idea for either of us.” She paused, glancing back. “What about some cookies and milk?”

He was about to tell her that sounded great when she laughed.

“God, listen to me. I sound like my grandma when she used to ask us if we wanted cookies and milk when we came to her house as kids.” Her cheeks flushed to match her hair, which Carter found adorable. Mara’s wholesomeness was wonderful. “I don’t think you’re a kid, though. Not at all.”

Carter’s blood heated as her eyes roved over his body. He fought to keep his eyes on her face and not do the same. “There’s nothing wrong with emulating your elders. And I’ll always take cookies. What kind?”

Some of her embarrassment faded, and she relaxed a bit. “Snickerdoodles. I love cinnamon.”

“Me too. Those are my favorite cookie.”

She turned around, heading for the counter again, but glanced back. “Really? Most people say chocolate chip.”

“Yep. I like chocolate, but I’ll almost always choose a snickerdoodle if given a choice. Or oatmeal raisin.”

He followed her deeper into the kitchen and helped her pour two glasses of milk and put cookies on a plate.

“Do you want to go in the living room, or would you rather stay in here?” Mara asked.

“Whichever you prefer. The living room is probably more comfortable, though, right?”

“Infinitely.” She picked up the cookie plate and her glass of milk. “Come on.” She led him down the short hallway to her light and bright living room.

Carter waited for her to pick a seat, then sat down on the other end of the couch. He picked up a cookie off the plate she set down and took a bite. Cinnamon exploded over his tongue. “Mmm.” He swallowed the bite. “This is really good.”

“Thanks. It’s my grandma’s recipe.”