Her eyes went wide as saucers.
Dammit. “No, not that.” Wasn’t that reaction what all guys wanted when a woman thought she’d have to sleep with them?
The flush in her cheeks darkened. “No— I didn’t think— I mean—” She took a drink, tipping the thermos all the way back like it was the hard stuff. She swallowed and exhaled. “What exactly do you mean? You made it sound serious.”
“Holding hands. Touching.” My voice dropped on the last word.
“Kissing?” She giggled like it was an absurd joke.
The idea of kissing Ruby should be appalling. I’d worked at Copper Summit since I was sixteen. Unofficially for years before that. There had not been one employee I’d wanted to kiss. Ever.
But as soon as I’d agreed to fake dating, the door had been flung wide open. What exactly would we have to do to sell this relationship? How far did she want to go? How often could I feel that satiny skin?
Her poleaxed expression knocked each question out of my brain. I needed to fix this. “Of course I don’t think we’ll have to kiss. Much. I’m just saying?—”
“I didn’t like Brock’s kisses,” she blurted.
Good. “Okay.”
“He was sloppy. I don’t think kissing should be sloppy. I guess sometimes when things really get going, but—” She shook her head and blinked. “I haven’t had a good kiss, come to think of it.” Her expression changed to offended. “I don’t date much, so I don’t have a ton of experience. But between paper dry and careless drool...” She set her plate on the coffee table. Her sandwich was half eaten. “Wow. I’m the common denominator. It’s me. No one wanted to go out with me, and when they did, it was me that was the problem. You must think?—”
“It’s not you.” I would bet my job on it. Both of them. “And I can prove it. Besides, if we can kiss once or twice at the wedding, it’ll look more real. Like we’ve done it before.” Was I making a valid excuse or a selfish one? I wouldn’t answer.
“Practice, you mean?” She sounded breathy.
“Sure.”
She licked her lips. That tongue of hers was a few shades redder than her lips. Would it taste richer? “Now?”
She didn’t need the practice. Still didn’t stop me. I took my glasses off and shoved the coffee table across the carpet. I wason my knees in front of her before I knew it. “The first thing I’m going to show you is that you’re not the problem.”
She tipped her head back to meet my gaze. The chair was so low that I was still taller than her on my knees. “How do you know?”
I propped my hands on the armrests. “I saw your ex’s messy kiss.”
“Maybe it was me?—”
I claimed her mouth. Ripe, plump lips parted in surprise but I didn’t take the kiss further. Not yet.
I added pressure and she kissed back. No. Definitely not her. She was sweet from the orange juice, savory from the breakfast sandwich, and soft. So damn soft.
I pulled back only enough to murmur, “How’s that?”
“It’s the Goldilocks kiss.” Her breath whispered over my mouth. “Not too dry. Not too wet. Just right.”
“There are some circumstances when nothing is too wet.” I tipped her chin up. “Open for me, Goldilocks.”
As soon as her lips parted, I dove in. I licked into her warmth, and her flavor deepened. Sweet and savory. My growl resonated between us. I plundered and sucked, forgetting about the technique I had once studied so intently.
Something about Ruby made me throw all my good sense out the window.
I curled a hand around the back of her neck to bring her closer. She let me. Her head tipped back and she was clutching my shirt like she was afraid one of us would drift away.
A needy moan left her.
Yes. The sound was different than her delicious food moan, but it burrowed into my consciousness just the same.
There was nothing wrong with this woman. In fact, I’d make it my mission to fake date the hell out of her. After me, she’d know when any other man didn’t measure up.
