The interior of the truck was cool against her back, a stark contrast to the heat building between them. His shoulders did indeed feel solid as rock beneath her fingers, but just as she got good and ready to explore the rest of him, the kiss wound down.
Noah’s thumb traced her jawline as he pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes darkening with his own reaction.
“I’m not going to apologize.” His voice slid into places inside that could wholly benefit from hearing it a lot more in much more intimate circumstances.
“Please don’t,” she murmured. “Apologies are for mistakes.”
“I’ve been thinking about doing that since I first saw you.”
“You mean when I was covered in dirt from the rockslide?” Her attempt at light humor came out breathless.
“Even then.” He brushed his lips against hers again, softer this time but no less intense. “Especially then.”
She curled her fingers into his shirt, torn between yanking him back for round two and pushing him toward the promised steak that was all the way inside the building. “You always kiss your dates before the appetizers?”
“Never been tempted before. I have recently become a convert of the idea though. We might make it a thing from now on. Just between us.” His grin simultaneously made her want that mouth on hers again and for him to keep talking, because she did like the way his mind worked.
“I’ve never let a guy help me down out of a truck before,” she admitted freely. “Can we add that to our thing?”
His grin turned wolfish. “I insist.” He stepped back—darn it—but kept hold of her hand. “Come on. I’m starving, and you look too good in that dress to spend the whole evening crammed into the passenger side of my truck.”
“The dress comes off, you know.” Flirting with him was so easy, the words just came out all by themselves.
The look he gave her sent another wave of warmth through her midsection. “Trust me, I’m aware. But we have to save something for later. Distract me with a story. I want to hear all about how you ended up working in Dark Canyon Wilderness.”
The host’s gaze widened slightly as they walked in. No doubt they looked a little rumpled, Noah’s shirt slightly askew, her lips reddened and chaffed. As thoroughly as she’d been kissed, she hoped it showed all over her face.
They followed the host to a corner booth, and Noah slid in next to her instead of across. Bold. But after that kiss, space felt pointless. She didn’t even want to maintain a respectable distance. Why put up pretense?
“So.” He picked up his menu, but his eyes stayed on her. “Where do you want to start? Work history? Favorite climbing spots? Most dangerous area of the canyons?”
“You’re assuming I have stories.”
“Please.” That grin again, making her stomach flip. “The way you handle yourself out in the elements? You’ve got stories.”
She laughed, appreciating how he’d segued to a subject near and dear to her heart instead of jumping into small talk about stuff that didn’t matter. “Most guys try to avoid discussing my job.”
Because it scared them that she could take care of herself, she’d always assumed.
“Most guys probably bore you to tears.” He set down his menu. “I can tell you’re someone who doesn’t shy away from dangerous situations. You live for this stuff as much as I do.”
“The thrill of being one false step from death?” She tilted her head, studying him. “Is that what drew you to SAR work?”
Something flickered in his expression. “Among other things. But we were talking about your stories first.”
Their server appeared with water glasses, and they quickly ordered—both choosing steaks, both medium rare. Noah’s eyebrows lifted at her order.
“Let me guess.” She took a sip of water. “Most women you date prefer well done.”
“I don’t usually pay attention to what my dates order.” His knee brushed hers under the table. “But I’m paying attention to everything about you.”
Heat crept up her neck at his intense focus. “In that case, you’ve probably noticed I don’t like to waste time either. So tell me about your most dangerous rescue.”
“Trying to avoid talking about yourself?” The amusement in his voice told her he knew exactly what she was doing.
“Maybe I just want to know what kind of trouble you get into when you’re not pulling bodies out of rockslides.”
“Oh, I get into all kinds of trouble.” He shifted closer, his thigh pressed against hers now. “Last month, I had to race up Mount Peale in a thunderstorm to reach some stranded climbers. Lightning was cracking all around, and the rain made every step a gamble. Nearly lost my footing a few times before we finally spotted them.”
