His laugh was quiet but it sent a ripple of warmth through her. He lifted his head, lips brushing the spot just below her jaw.
“You heat me up,” he said.
“Oh my God.” She shoved lightly at his shoulder, heat flaring in her face. “Shut up.”
Luke rolled them, bracing one hand beside her head. “You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, looking down at her.
Grace swallowed. Hard.
She needed to give some witty comeback, something to keep the moment light and safe—but her heart was thudding way too loudly in her chest for that.
Instead her words came out sounding too serious. “If you keep sweet-talking me, I’m going to think you like me or something.”
Luke grinned, that crooked, devastating half-smile she pretended didn’t undo her. “Maybe I do.”
Her breath hitched.
Her heart did a stupid, hopeful leap.
The words were right there, sitting on her tongue.So let's go out. On a real date. Let people see us together.
It would be so easy. Why couldn’t she just say it? How could he possibly say no when he looked at her like that?
Grace opened her mouth.
"Luke, I?—"
His thumb traced the line of her jaw, his eyes dark and warm and fixed on her face like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
This was it. The perfect moment.
Say it. Ask him. Be brave.
"I—" Her courage failed. The words died in her throat. "I'm glad you're here."
It wasn't what she meant to say. It wasn't what sheneededto say.
But it was safe.
Luke's expression softened, something tender crossing his face. He leaned down and kissed her forehead—sweet, gentle, nothing like the heat from before.
"Me too," he murmured against her skin.
Grace closed her eyes. Next time. She'd ask next time.
Luke reached out and tugged lightly at a strand of her hair.
“I like seeing you like this,” he said. “You get this look when I…”
Her face went hot. “Oh my God, do not finish that sentence.”
He laughed again. God, she loved that sound. She’s never heard him laugh quite like this with anyone else. Not the guys at the station. Not the people in town.
No—this laugh was hers.
She slid her leg to tangle lazily with his. He helped her, setting one hand on her thigh with a possessiveness that made her toes curl, and hitching it higher on his hip.
In this moment, everything felt easy. The soft lamplight. The warmth of his skin. His hand on her body like he had every right to touch her.
