Family Man

dog was going to eat me alive.”
    Luke's eyes gleamed. “You're confused, Katy. I'm the one who's going to eat you alive.” His hand moved down over her thigh, and his leg slid between her knees.
    “Speaking of eating…” Katy murmured.
    “Umm?” Luke was nibbling on her earlobe now.
    “Did you leave something in the oven?”
    Luke's head came up with a jerk. Something akin to panic flashed in his eyes. “Holy shit. The soufflé.”
    Katy collapsed in laughter as Luke leapt to his feet and raced into the kitchen. Zeke bounded after him, carrying his dish on the off chance that some other culinary disaster might end up in it.
    Katy got up, still laughing, and straightened her clothes. Then she went into the kitchen. Luke, hands sheathed in plump black hot pads, was cautiously lifting the soufflé out of the oven.
    “Don't even breathe,” he whispered as he set it on top of the stove.
    “Too late,” Katy said. “It's already collapsing. Look, there it goes.”
    Luke gazed in outraged frustration as the golden dome of the soufflé began to sink. “Dalton swore that if I followed directions it wouldn't collapse. Look at that sucker. It's going to turn into a pancake.”
    “The good thing about soufflés, Luke, is that they taste the same whether or not they collapse.”
    “Bullshit. That does it. I'm going to fire Dalton first thing in the morning.”
    “You are not going to fire poor Benedict Dalton, so stop making threats and serve your dessert course.” Katy smiled. “And while you're at it, you can tell me you love me.”
    Luke jerked his attention away from the collapsed soufflé long enough to meet her gaze. “I've really made a hash of this, haven't I? I love you, Katy.”
    “Good. I love you, too. Let's eat.”

    A long while later Luke felt Katy stir languidly beside him. They were lying in front of the fire, curled up on a quilt. Zeke had retired with dignity and his bowl to the kitchen, bored with human sexual conduct.
    Katy's dress, bra, and pantyhose were hanging haphazardly over the back of a chair. All she had on was the black cotton shirt Luke had been wearing earlier. Luke thought she looked incredibly sexy in it.
    Luke was wearing nothing at all. He savored the feel of Katy's leg sliding alongside his own. She was so soft, he thought. Sweet and gentle and soft. And she loved him. She was going to marry him.
    He could hardly believe his luck.
    He dared not believe his luck.
    With an instinct that had been born in him three years ago when he stood staring at the smoking remains of a downed jet, he started looking for the dark side of his good fortune.
    Katy yawned. “I suppose I should think about getting back to my own cottage. Matt will be home soon.”
    Luke glanced at his black steel watch. “You've got another hour or so. Katy, I want us to be married as soon as possible.”
    She turned in his arms. Her hair, backlit by the fire, glowed like the sun. “Oh, no, you don't. This is going to be my one and only wedding, and I'm going to do it up right.”
    “I don't care how you do it up so long as you do it up fast.” He tangled his fingers in her fiery hair. “I mean it, Katy. I want to know you're mine as soon as possible.”
    She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. The black shirt fell open, revealing the curve of one milk-white breast. Luke could just barely see the outline of her pink nipple.
    “What's wrong, Luke?”
    “Nothing.” He reached inside the shirt and found the tantalizing nipple. It grew firm instantly at his touch. “I just don't want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary.”
    “I was thinking sometime in the fall, after Matt goes off to college,” she said slowly.
    “I was thinking sometime next week.”
    She tilted her head. “Luke, are you serious?”
    “Yes.”
    “I can't possibly be ready that soon. There are so many things that have to be taken care of.”
    “Such as?”
    “Where we'll live, for one thing. There isn't room for you to move in with Matt and me.”
    “Yes, there is. Matt has his room. We'll use yours. After he leaves we'll find a place of our own. I don't intend to live next door to Justine for the rest of my life.”
    She absorbed that. “Well, I suppose that might work. All the same, I feel strange rushing into marriage like this. I'm sure there are all sorts of other things that have to be considered.”
    “Name one.”
    “Pesto Presto,” she said.
    Luke caught her face urgently between his