Declan pulled up a chair right next to Leslie, and she could feel her pulse kicking up as his jeans-clad leg brushed against hers. “Hi,” he murmured under the guise of scooting his chair closer and sitting down, his breath warm against hercheek.
“Hi,” she muttered back. “Nice to seeyou.”
“What kind of tea do you want, Dec?” asked Orbra. Leslie couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t asked anyone else their preference, and she grinned to herself again. It seemed as if everyone liked theguy.
“I’ll have some of that special autumn blend that you were serving at the football game,” he said. “Though I’ve recently begun to enjoy chai tea as well.” His leg bumped purposely against Leslie’s. “And could I get it to go? I just had to stop in for a sec—I wanted to let you know,” he said, turning to Leslie, “that I need you to take a look at one of the pieces for the stair railing. I can’t go any further with the project until you give me the go-ahead on it. It’s at myworkshop.”
“Oh, sure,” she replied, managing not to sound too eager. “I’m pretty swamped today, but I could probably stop by sometime this afternoon.” There was the definite sound of a snicker, and Leslie slammed the toe of her shoe into her beloved auntie’s shin beneath the table. And if she caught Orbra’s ankle on the way, that was nothing more than a two-for-one.
“It won’t take long,” Declan said, though the look in his eyes belied that statement. Fortunately, he wasn’t looking at anyone butLeslie.
“All right. What time is good foryou?”
“Say, two o’clock? Then I’ll still have quite a bit of daylight to keep working after you give me the go-ahead.”
Leslie was aware of Cherry shaking with suppressed laughter—apparently she could read a double entendre into anything—but she managed to keep her own expression impassive. “Sure. That sounds good. I’ll be there aroundtwo.”
“Great. See you then. Thanks a lot for the tea, Orbra,” Declan said as he stood to accept the to-go cup. He brushed a kiss onto the sturdy Dutch lady’s cheek, then gave a general wave to the group and said hisgoodbyes.
“Leslie’s gonna get laid, Leslie’s gonna get laid,” Cherry chanted into herear.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Orbra muttered, hands on her hips. She looked as disappointed as if it wereshewho wasn’t going to get laid. “Don’t the kids get out of school at two-thirty, and get home beforethree?”
Cherry’s face fell, and her brows knitted together in disappointment. “Damn. That’s too chancy, anyway. We don’t want him rushingthings.”
Leslie merely smiled to herself, for she knew something the other ladiesdidn’t.
It was Thursday, and Stephanie Lillard had pom practice on Thursdays—right after school, until sixp.m.
Atleast.
* * *
Leslie pulledup to Declan’s house at two o’clock sharp. Her stomach was filled with butterflies in the same way they’d been the first time she’d had to do a press conference after the public offering wasannounced.
Only this time, the butterflies were much softer and more pleasant, and were accompanied by a soft pang of anticipation whenever she remembered the way Declan had looked at her this morning. As much of a planner and organizer as she was, Leslie couldn’t ever remember having actuallyplanneda sexdate.
Especially the first time with aman.
It was a headyfeeling.
She got out of the car and was heading toward the workshop when the door of the house opened. Declan stood there, looking…just incredibly delicious. So handsome, so solid and male andinviting.
Their eyes met across the way, and she felt azingsizzle through her as she turned to walk toward him. He leaned against the doorway, wearing a heather-blue t-shirt that fit him just right and charcoal-gray jeans that rode low on his hips. No shoes. His hair was damp and he was clean-shaven.
“I thought you’d be in the workshop,” she said, half to be sassy and half because she was afraid she’d say something else that would betray the nerves and anticipation she wasfeeling.
“I wanted to get cleaned up before you got here.” His eyes didn’t leave her; they were practically eating her up as he stepped back to allow her to walk through the door. “I was all sweaty anddirty.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” she said, dropping her voice to something low and throaty as he closed the door behind her. She walked through the entryway mudroom and into a bright and cheery kitchen withowlson the curtains, utterly and jubilantly aware of how he watchedher.
“And why is that?” Declan asked, sliding an arm around her from behind. With his other hand, he moved the hair off one side of her neck, combing it with his fingers so it fell over the oppositeshoulder.
Leslie gave a delicious little shiver when his mouth slid delicately along the exposed side of her throat, nibbling lightly from ear to the curve of her shoulder. Pleasure and heat shuttled through her like sensual, feathery tickles, and she closed her eyes, leaning back against him. “Because,” she murmured, “I have a feeling you’re going to get all sweaty again. And I’m hoping for a little dirtytoo.”
He gave a little laugh against her skin, warm and moist, then settled in to really taste and nibble, licking and sucking gently on the most sensitive, delicate spot beneath herear.
Leslie sighed and shivered, her hands braced against the counter in front of her as liquid pleasure coursed through her, heading directly south. He was crowding her gently against the kitchen island, and she felt heat and muscle and the fact that he wasveryhappy to see her. She smiled and moaned when he slipped his naughty, slick tongue around to trace the inside of herear.
