Free Homeless Heart by JC Szot

several large scallops, adding a slice of lemon. The powerful scent of garlic rose to her nose. Drake was right in sync with her thoughts.
    “We’ll both stink or brush our teeth promptly after dinner,” he said, his smile warm. “Why don’t you pour the wine, and I’ll get a fire going.”
    It’s already hot in here.
    “Sure.” She nodded. Kelly picked up the chilled bottle of a hearty burgundy vintage she couldn’t pronounce if she tried. She filled their glasses halfway, watching the wine paint the inside of the large goblets.
    The crackling of the fire pulled her attention to the immense hearth. Drake knelt before the hearth, placing the protective screen in front of the flames. He was in jeans again, but this time the denim was black, accompanied by an icy-gray shirt. He stood and lowered the lighting. The fire’s glow pulsed on the walls. She watched him walk toward her, his strides confident and full of purpose.
    Drake was refined, very urban, yet earthy. He was obviously wealthy and educated. The more she tried to figure out his interest in her, the more anxious she became. What ulterior motive could there be? She had nothing to offer him, only her body—but if that was all he was interested in, he would’ve pushed them further that night in the tent. No, Drake wasn’t about force. There was gentleness about him, an easiness.
    Kelly supposed if she had his bank account, she’d maybe exhibit some of those traits too, but her stupidity would only throw it all away on the next horse or another game of blackjack. She’d gotten sucked into her reflective vacuum again, not realizing he’d already taken his seat at the island. His velvety voice gently stroked over her, rescuing her.
    “Kelly.” He reached for her hand. “Don’t let your food get cold.” His fingers stroked over hers.
    “I’m used to cold food,” she replied, her sarcasm a defense mechanism she should’ve left back in the woods with her tent.
    Drake’s eyes darkened, his stare direct. “Well, you better get used to a little heat, because I’m going to do whatever it takes to remedy that,” he said, his voice sharp.
    They ate a slow, leisurely meal, something Kelly also wasn’t used to. She’d actually had to silently prompt herself to slow down. Life on the streets had put a damper on some basic skills of etiquette.
    Drake openly shared more details of his life with her, without Kelly having to ask. He owned a management consulting firm. He spoke about his staff and what he’d seen during his earlier travels while away on business.
    “I don’t like to travel anymore. I’m tired of seeing it alone,” he admitted.
    Hadn’t there ever been anyone? The next words spewed from her mouth before Kelly could censor herself, the wine defusing her reserve. “Have you ever been married?” she asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
    Drake shook his head. “Nope. Almost,” he said, his confession light. Silence crept between them. The hissing of the fire’s flames attacking seasoned wood replaced the words of a conversation that’d stalled.
    They finished their meal. Drake waved her back to her seat when she attempted to help with the cleanup. After all their dishes were loaded in the stainless steel dishwasher, Drake suggested that they sit on the couch.
    Drake’s arms slid across the back of the leather couch. His fingers threaded through her hair. He removed her glass from her hand and set the stemware on the sturdy coffee table. Kelly found herself leaning into him, craving what he was about to offer.
    His dark hair gleamed, gelled back, showing off his angled face. Drake’s fingers traced her jawline, his eyes holding hers. His intentions were mirrored in them, clear and legible. His lips slowly sloped into a seductive smile that had her belly filling with a blossoming heat. His eyes caressed her as he moved closer. His lips were silky and smooth. They brushed over hers. A slight tease of wet heat painted her lower lip