Tilting her head back, she bared more of her flesh for him as he tasted her, then traced the curve of her throat as he turned her again in his arms so he could capture her mouth.
The flowers may have been a forking ruse.
“Do you really have a dinner reservation?” She mumbled as his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt.
He shook against her in silent laughter. “Yeah.”
But his fingers didn’t slow down, and then his palm was flat against the skin on her side and she really wanted to drag him to her bed.
“Owen?”
The flex of his fingers digging deep into her flesh said a lot. The deep, ragged breath he sucked in before stepping back filled in the rest of the story, but the way he dipped his head and looked her right in the eye was the surprise. “I want you so much. More than I thought.” A muscle in his cheek flexed. “But I want your company first. So…dinner.”
“Dinner,” she whispered.
She didn’t move. He was so close, and smelled so good, and had feltamazingup against her.
He leaned in again, but instead of kissing her, he brushed his fingers over her hand and took the flowers from her.
Her heart thudded against her rib cage.
He glanced around her open concept space. “This place is very cool.”
“I like it.” She gave him the ten second tour with her index finger.
“The clock doesn’t work, eh?”
“Apparently not. I like it anyway. It makes up for the fact there’s no bathtub in the washroom.”
“What!” Owen feigned mock horror on her behalf made her laugh.
She pivoted away from him and grabbed a large mason jar for the flowers.
He helped her put them in, then took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “Ready to go?”
“I’m all yours.”
They took his truck, which was delightfully clean, and fell into a conversation about music as soon as the radio came on—and Owen promptly turned it down, but not before Kerry heard the latest country hit playing. She teased him about bro country, and he teased her back about Rick Martin and liking retro dance music.
“I saw you dancing that night,” she said. After their second almost-kiss. “You like that music just fine.”
“You watched me?”
“A bit. I was busy dancing myself.”
“I know. I saw you, too. Somehow you were always on the other side of the dance floor from me.”
“It was safer that way.” She shot him a coy look across the cab of the truck. “I mean, look at last night and tonight when you picked me up.”
He grinned. “That was quite the nice kiss you laid on me at the door.”
“It would have been terrible if I’d done that in the middle of the dance floor.”
“Awful.” He winked and reached across the cab, giving her his hand to hold. She liked the warmth of his palm and the strength of his fingers here just as much as she did when he held her. “I told Becca about the date.”
“I was wondering if you would.”
“I almost didn’t. It’s our business, and we’re just seeing where things are going, right?”
