Copyright 2012, Lori CrawfordAll rights reserved, Lyrical Press, Inc. "This is wonderful, Hutch. Thank you," Carissa gushed after she'd swallowed a forkful of eggs. "I don't want to burst your bubble, but you've reached the end of my culinary skills. " James picked up his glass of orange juice. "Still want to hide my house keys?""Are you kidding? You've cooked every meal since what, Thursday? You have a pretty impressive arsenal. "The man's face did what could only be described as beam under her praise. Quincy felt sick to his stomach. "Who am I to argue with the world's best patient?" James shrugged in faux modesty and lifted his glass to his lips. Quincy glared at the man and flicked his finger up. The glass tipped too far and orange juice splattered on his face before streaming down his neck and chest. Embarrassment was quick to replace the satisfaction that had been in James's expression moments earlier. Quincy smirked. Score!"Oh no!" Carissa jumped up to grab some towels while James tried to mop up the spill with the napkins already on the table. Quincy twirled his finger so the juice kept multiplying even though the glass was on the table. He grinned. It was going to take more than those few towels in Carissa's hand to clean this mess up. He brought his hands together to focus the flow toward James's groin. How attractive would Carissa find a man who appeared wet his pants?Carissa didn't hand James the towels like he'd expected. Instead, she wiped him up herself. Quincy frowned and stopped the flow. He hadn't seen that coming. He studied her expression. Something was amiss. Her cheeks were all pink and she was biting her lip. She kept her eyes glued to his chest while her hand smoothed over the contours of his pectorals and down over his taut belly then back up again. Since the juice had stopped flowing, her touch had turned into more of a caress. "Cara?" James's voice sounded all husky, the way women seemed to like. He caught her hand and stood up. Their gazes locked and held. With the juice-soaked crotch, it wasn't difficult to see the effect Carissa's cleaning had had on the man. She leaned forward the tiniest bit. So did James. Crap. They were going to kiss. Quincy couldn't have that. He looked around for a distraction. Any distraction. Ah, there. He pointed toward the cellphone on the table. He didn't recognize it so he figured it was James's. The little gadget chirped to life. For the first couple of rings, neither Carissa nor the man appeared to hear it. With a frown, Quincy jerked his thumb up. The ringer volume increased. "Your phone," Carissa said and stepped back with a quick shake of her head. Finally. The girl was coming to her senses. She picked up the phone with her free hand and handed it to James. Quincy wanted to breathe a sigh of relief now that the moment had been broken, but judging from the way the man kept holding her hand, it wouldn't take much for them to pick up where they'd left off. He needed to get the guy out of there.