I do, because I’m not stupid, and it’s a chunky piece of chocolate candy. He watches me with that quiet focus. “You’re sharing your favorite candy with me on a flight we got thrown together on by chance.”
“Mm.”
“That’s either very generous or very dangerous.”
“Can’t it be both?”
I pop the chocolate into my mouth and actually close my eyes for a second. “Oh my God.”
He laughs under his breath. “That good?”
After a long moment of chewing and savoring, I swallow and open my eyes. “I need at least four more immediately.”
That gets a real chuckle out of him, wicked enough that a hot pulse rolls through me, deep in my belly.
God.
His laugh alone is going to send me into heat.
Who is this man?
Ace is still staring at me, far too entertained. “You fall hard.”
“For good chocolate? Absolutely.”
“Good to know.” He smiles, the corners of his mouth creasing, that strong jawline, the sparkling green-and-gold eyes. I’m in so much trouble.
I narrow my gaze and reach for another piece anyway. “You can’t weaponize candy against me. There are laws.”
“Pretty sure there aren’t.”
“There should be.”
His hand brushes mine as he takes one for himself, and the contact is brief, barely there, but enough to send another stupid little shock through me. My body has apparently decided we live here now, in this humiliating state of awareness.
“So this is your whole thing, then?” I ask.
He glances over. “Candy?”
“No. That you enjoy watching how people react to you.”
He studies me for a beat, not denying it, which is somehow worse. “Depends on the person.”
The words settle low and hot under my skin.
I should back off. I know I should. I’ve known him for what, an hour? Less? But something about him makes me lean in instead of away, like the part of me that usually plays it carefully has gone wandering off unsupervised.
“What about me?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His gaze holds mine. “With you,” he begins, voice low enough that it stays between us, “I’m enjoying it a lot.”
My pulse stumbles. I look away, because if I keep holding his stare like this, I’m going to do something embarrassing.
Outside the window, the tarmac is all gray light and drizzle, but in here, it feels close and charged. The plane is starting to move.
I clear my throat. “Why are you going to Oahu?”
He pops a chocolate into his mouth and settles back. “Going home.”
