Blinking, I open my eyes and stare up at him. A sigh escapes my lips. “I enjoy it, but truthfully it’s not my number one career goal,” I confess.
His eyebrows dip. “What is?”
I avert my gaze, only for Neil to move his hand beneath my chin, bringing our eyes to meet once again.
“To own a bakery. Sweet Seduction, just like the name of my website.” I pause, realizing he’s one of the very few people I’ve told my dream to. “Deirdre and Jackie are the only two people I’ve shared that with.”
Neil’s lips firm as he peers down at me. But his look doesn’t read sympathy. There’s understanding in his eyes.
“We’ll be talking more about this. In particular, why you haven’t pursued that career ambition just yet. For now, you need to get some rest.”
His mouth tells me to go inside and get some sleep, but the way his gaze burrows into mine, I’m picking up that he’s holding back his desire to accompany me inside as well. I start to form the invitation on my lips, but they’re covered by Neil’s.
Leaning in, I fall into his embrace, letting out the most profound sigh as he kisses me with what feels like everything inside of him. His lips are so soft and welcoming I can’t ever imagine having kissed any other man or everwantingto. And unlike the kiss we shared at dinner, this one doesn’t end too abruptly.
I’m able to get my full fill of Neil’s kiss as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull his body into mine. Or maybe, it’s him who pulled me closer into his warmth. Either way, our bodies are fused together, our tongues sampling, tasting, and savoring one another’s.
Slowly, the kiss ends, as our night together is ending—my chest constricts with the regret of our parting.
“You taste better than those oatmeal raisin cookies,” Neils murmurs as he presses his forehead against mine.
I lower my eyes and laugh.
“That was corny as hell, huh?”
He chuckles as I nod.
“Thanks for getting me through this day.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Thanks for letting me. I’ll see you on Friday.”
I nod, recalling that I agreed to another date with him Friday night.
“You should go inside now.” There was a warning tone in his voice. Almost as if I weren’t to go inside right now, it would most certainly lead to things getting out of hand. I can’t say that I’m opposed to that happening, but the gleam in Neil’s eyes stops me. He appears as if he’s trying his damndest to hold back.Why?I wonder, but don’t let the question form on my lips.
Lifting onto my tiptoes, I softly brush my lips against his one final time, prompting a small groaning sound to pierce the air between us. That came from Neil, and it caused my lips to curl upward.
“Can’t wait ’til Friday.” I give him one final look over my shoulder before turning and entering my apartment.
Shutting the door behind me, I lean against it and let all the air out of my lungs. It’s been a few months since I’ve been on a date and probably years since I’ve been on one as good as this one. No, scratch that, it’s beenneversince I’ve been on a date like this.
I’m not a stranger to relationships, but never have I experienced losing track of time on a first date. Not since I was a teenager, and even then, it wasn’t so much the guy, as it was my maturing hormones and the thrill of sneaking out, defying my mother’s rules.
None of that comes into play with Neil. We’re both consenting adults. All we’d done on our date was have dinner and then spend hours driving around and talking. We discussed his fascination with astronomy as a child while naming all of the stars. He told me the story of the Man in the Moon that his mother taught him as a child. I talked about my days as a teacher and funny stories of my students and their shenanigans.
Even when it got quiet between us, there was no awkwardness. The most surprising part was, not once had I paused to think about today’s date and what it signified. After our initial conversation at the restaurant, thoughts of my sister and her death didn’t weigh me down as they did in previous years.
Now, as I enter my apartment alone, thinking about my sister, force me to remember that she is gone. My mind instantly returns to Neil, the man who tried to help her. He also had the same problem as Deirdre, and a piece of me wonders if this is a mistake.
Could I be falling for someone as unwell as Deirdre?
Shaking my head, I push away from the door. It’s a ridiculous notion, I know. Neil’s been sober for years. He’s not my sister.
Chapter 4
“Ohhh, you should taste these butter toffee cookies. Ifinallyperfected the recipe,” I squeal with excitement, squeezing the phone on my right hand while holding a half-eaten cookie in my left.
“Those sound amazing. If they’re anything like those pumpkin lattes, they’ll sell pretty well. Oh, and the vanilla cookies. Mama enjoyed the batch you sent a couple of weeks ago,” my closest friend, Jackie, says into the phone.
