Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 52: Too Close
Abby

Sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, the soft clinking of our utensils is a comforting lullaby against the

evening’s silence. I sneak glances at Karl every now and then, his features illuminated with a gentle

glow from the overhead light. He seems lost in his thoughts, enjoying every bite.

“This pasta turned out really well,” he murmurs, drawing my attention.

I chuckle, twirling another mouthful onto my fork. “Team effort, remember?”

Karl smiles. “Yes, but I think someone here had the magic touch, and it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

Laughing lightly, I shake my head. “You flatter too much, Mr. Know-It-All.”

As I twirl the spaghetti around my fork, Karl’s gaze meets mine, a hint of mirth in his eyes. “You know,”

he begins, pausing for effect, “I never thought I’d see the day where you’re more engrossed in your

food than in giving orders.”

I feign shock, clutching my chest. “Mr. Karl, are you insinuating that I’m bossy?”

His laughter fills the room, its rich timbre a comforting note in the ambiance of our intimate dinner.

“Never, Miss Abby. Simply observing,” he winks.

Giggling, I take a playful swipe at him with my napkin. We continue this light banter, laughing over silly

anecdotes and shared memories. With each passing minute, my guard slips a little further.

I hate myself for it, for being so easily lulled into this contentment. For being so comfortable and at

peace in Karl’s presence.

As I reach for my glass of water, my fingers brush against his.

I can’t help but notice the warmth of his touch, and how his skin feels against mine—strong yet gentle.

In the dim light of the kitchen, he looks… captivating. The way the soft glow accentuates the rugged

contours of his face, the spark in his eyes, and that boyish charm that lurks just beneath his often stern

exterior—it’s all disarmingly handsome.

I can’t deny it any longer, how easy it is to get lost in the moment with him. To forget about our

differences, about the hurt of the past, and simply revel in the now. The pull is magnetic, almost primal,

and it scares me just how much I’m drawn to him.

voice interrupts my

slightly, I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost in

about how wonderful my culinary skills are?” he

I reply, “More like thinking about how

the meal, we continue our back and forth, and it’s so… effortless. The laughter,

every word, every gesture, Karl’s

forget about the man

Chloe’s words echo in my mind—about how Karl used to be

all of

sweet boyfriend to a more aloof husband. The haunting thought

be an act.

tonight, I just want to push those thoughts aside. Tonight, I want to believe

of nostalgia and

joking with the man she once loved

the table, locking eyes with him. “Thank

smiles, a genuine, warm smile. “Always, Abby.

we finish the meal, I clear away the plates, placing them in the dishwasher. Jumping

on the countertop,

begin, twirling the pen in my fingers, “time to finalize our order. Let’s hear

missing a beat, Karl starts listing off ingredients. “We need rosemary, thyme,

of that s picy

watch in amusement as

shelves, peeking into containers, and being

out.

a whirlwind,” I comment,

winks at me from across the room. “Efficiency, Abby. I learned

some point, Karl comes closer, presumably to look into a nearby

notice the sheen of

me, especially after a long day, is touching. Maybe it softens me a

I beckon him closer, setting down the notepad for

with a slow, measured pace. His closeness sends a tiny jolt of

wiping the sweat

a trooper tonight,” I

silence between us, punctuated only

Karl’s hand shoots out. His arm wraps

mix together, husky and

want me,” he murmurs. “I know

Ever since I had that w et drea m about

made a promise to

help it. He looks too hot in the dim light of the kitchen, with a sheen of

his sinewy forearms, for me to push him

has to speak. Before I know it, our lips are locked in an intense kiss. He tastes sweet

echoes between us as his tongue works its way into my

me in ways that

this. To be touched, wanted, loved. I haven’t felt this

“Abby…”