“You look… amazing.” I don’t even have words. Not real ones that aren’t generic and she deserves better, but there isn’t enough blood left in my brain to make a thought. I’ve pictured her in my mind a thousand times and my mind hasn’t done her justice.. She’s… more.
“You look pretty great, too.” She gives me a once over that doesn’t cool the flames under my skin. It starts at my throat and works its way down and back up, so technically, a twice over and I try to stand still for it, but I shift from one leg to the other and she smiles.
Before I can speak again or think to speak, a cat–orange striped–comes walking out, weaves between her legs, brushing his fur against her legs. For a second, all I can think islucky cat, but then she reaches down to pick him up.
“Walker, allow me to introduce you to my son. This is Cheddar.” Her lips purse as she kisses his head and strokes his back with her long, elegant fingers.
It’s that moment I know for certain that I’m a lost cause. Somehow all this attraction has multiplied so now I’m thinking of her fingers aselegant.Like I said,lost cause.Probably ruined for other women. But time will tell.
I reach out to pet the cat and she smiles. “What’s his name?”
“Cheddar.” She’s like a proud parent.
“Like the cheese?” I might sound like an idiot, but I don’t care. She likes her cat. I like her.
“I adopted him from a shelter and they’d already named him, and I love cheese.”
I love her smile.
“So everybody wins.” Especially me, but I don’t say it aloud. Not yet anyway.
“I double won. Cheese is my favorite food group.” Another smile. One more and I might swoon like some Gone with the Wind damsel. But she’s worth it.
“Not really a food group, but I get your meaning.” I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to stop grinning at her.
When she puts the cat down, he runs toward the inside of the house, and we both watch him for a couple seconds. Then, she looks up at me and I’m toast. Her smile is better, eyes brighter, giggle softer, but it’s everything. In that moment,she’severything.
“I’ll just get my bag and we can go.” She gestures over her shoulder, but our gazes are locked, loaded, and I want to haul her against me and try for another of those kisses, like the one at the bar, but without the audience of her friends cheering her on.
Finally, she chuckles and turns, shaking her head as she walks to a table and slides her purse off the hook hanging above it. She slings it across her body, pulls some keys out of a bowl on the table and then comes back to me. I should move to let her out. My brain is aware of the social constructs of what needs to be done so we can leave, but my body isn’t cooperating. I’m like a fucking statue.
She pulls the corner of her lower lip between her teeth and all I can think is how lucky that lip is, but thank God, I don’t say it out loud. And I move back a step, then another so she can come out and lock the door behind her.
I glance at the bike and realize I should’ve driven over in my car so we could talk, but she looks at the bike and lights up like I’ve given her a prize. I hand her the helmet I keep strapped to the rear seat and smile when she smacks it on her head then lifts her chin so I can fasten the strap.
My fingers brush the soft, silky skin of her throat, and I suck in a breath. It’s almost like I’ve never touched a woman before, like I don’t know what the heat of her body will do to me.
I climb on the bike first then twist to hold out my hand to steady her as she climbs on behind me. As she wraps her arms around my waist I’m suddenly very glad I didn’t bring a car. Also I know exactly where we’re going.
There’s a fondue place called the Melting Pot. She loves cheese. It makes perfect sense. And I’m going for the big first date points.
When I start the bike, she hangs on a little tighter, hands clasped just under my sternum, and I wish this ride could go on forever. Her body presses closer, and I am snug between her legs. There isn’t much about this day that could get better.
Except the ride is too short, and we arrive in what feels like seconds. I park the bike in front of the bakery which is a few buildings down from the restaurant and climb off, after her, then lace our fingers together. We’ve already had some serious lip action, so holding her hand doesn’t seem especially forward. Although my body is reacting like I’ve stripped her naked and pushed her back against the brick wall so I can kiss the hell out of her.
I breathe in slow, let it out slower so maybe I can hang onto a bit of dignity before I embarrass myself.
As we walk, I try not to focus on more than getting to the restaurant without falling on my face, but then the silence stretches, and I look down at her.
Jesus, she’s pretty.
I clear my throat in the hopes of not sounding like some horndog teenager, but I come out somewhere in the middle of where I usually am and the horny kid I didn’t want to sound like. “So, how did you end up kissing me at the bar?” I’ve been wondering how I got so lucky.
She smiles. “Truth or dare.” There’s a happiness in her tone that pulls me in, makes my stomach flutter. And I’m not a big flutter kind of guy. “I’m on some medication so I can’t drink which meant I couldn’t do the shot required for a truth, so I had to take all the dares.” Her cheeks color to an adorable pink. “I was only supposed to get your number.”
Warmth spreads through me. “I know. I heard them chanting when we were talking.” I grin because I can’t stop grinning. “I’m glad you went for the kiss.”
She nods and looks down. “Me, too.”
