He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not uneasy.”
She grinned. “Yes, you are.” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned over it, peering at him. “The question is why. I think it’s because you like to be in control.”
That firefly had now summoned his friends—dragonflies, hummingbirds, buzzing bees, and even a herd of thundering elephants to convene in one location.
Fuck.
He shifted in his seat.
That waiter’s going to return any minute for her signature. How long is it going to take my cock to stop saluting her this time? And I don’t have Boudica here to help me out.
The doggie bag!
He breathed a sigh of relief.
He lifted it, feeling how heavy it was. “Do you think Boudica would like some of this? Holly will never be able to eat all of it.”
“Okay—Hey how do you know I have Boudica with me?”
He felt his cheeks begin to prickle. “Well, don’t you?” he asked, knowing full well she did.
He’d gone walking around the paddock back at the racetrack, stealing glimpses of her. He’d seen Boudica.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll get another bag and we can divvy up. I’ll put more in Boudica’s bag. Holly doesn’t eat much.”
Ceci smiled. “That must be how she stays so slim.”
Clarke chuckled. “Right.” He paused, looking back at her intently.“What’s your secret? How do you—I mean—where do you put all that? You finished almost everything on your plate.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with my body temperature. It runs higher than normal. Maybe I burn calories at a faster rate.”
“How much higher? What’s your normal temperature?”
“A little over ninety-nine degrees.”
He reached across the table and touched her hand. She flinched and was about to pull it away, but he took hold of it, rubbing his index finger along her palm.
She just shivered.
He bit his lip to keep from grinning.
“You don’t feel particularly hot; a bit warm, but not feverish.”
She pulled back but he didn’t let go.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not like it’s a high temperature. I mean if you were ninety-nine degrees, you probably wouldn’t even feel it.”
“I’m sure I’d feel something.”
“It’s not like being feverish.”
“Maybe not. But it’s interesting.”
The waiter returned with her card, and he let go of her hand.
After they’d gotten a second bag, he’d divvied up the ribs, and she’d signed the check, she stood up. “Ready for what’s next?”
