Page 41 of His Saving Grace

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t mean—” That was as far as he got in his apology, because his stomach chose that moment to growl. Embarrassingly loud.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glint of amusement making the gold glow, banishing some of that wariness. “I think you might be hungry.”

A tendril of her dark hair had come loose. He tucked it behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her smooth skin. “I am starving.” His voice was low and husky.

Their gazes met and everything else fell away. They became the only two people in the world. The urge to kiss her obliterated everything. He leaned forward.

A teenage boy ran past, all elbows and knees, and knocked Grace forward. She stumbled and Mason reached for her, but not before her softness collided into him, hard. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he dragged in a quick, silent breath. He slipped his arms around her instinctively.

“Sorry,” the boy called, disappearing into the crowd.

“You okay?” Mason frowned in the boy’s direction and then turned his attention back to Grace. He rubbed his hand in little circles against her lower back. His hands dipped lower and she tensed. Heat spiraled through him and the urge to tug her close, revel in her softness and warmth, gathered somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. And parts a bit farther south.

His stomach growled again, and she laughed, her eyes glowing gold, all the previous distance washed away. She pulled out of his embrace. “I’m fine, but it sounds like you’re starving to death. Let’s go find some food.”

She took his hand, the first time she initiated the action, and he grinned like an idiot.

They weaved around the people, checking out the various food vendors, each stand offering something different. Grace finally decided on fried chicken and got in line. He stayed with her, reluctant to let go of her hand. God, he was such a wiener.

After she ordered, she let go of his hand and dug around in her purse. He was already anticipating the transaction, so he beat her to the punch and pulled a twenty out of his pocket. Purposefully ignoring her, he slid the money across the counter and took the change back, dropped a nice hefty tip into the jar and tucked the rest into his pocket. Then he turned to her and shuffled her over to the pick-up area.

She was in a pique, her hands on her hips, her eyes sparking green fire. Interesting that her eyes shone gold when she was happy or amused, but shifted to green when she was angry or being stubborn. He wondered what color they’d be when she was turned on. When she was about to climax? Would they be a molten gold, or a liquid emerald?

“I’m perfectly capable of paying for my own dinner, you know?” She stared up at him, her plump lips pulled down in a frown. What would she do if he bent forward, nibbled, tasted, devoured that pretty little mouth of hers?

He didn’t get a chance to test his theory, because her order came up. So, he shrugged instead. “I was the one who asked, so it’s only fair that I pay.”

“Ah, so that’s how it works, is it?” She gave him a cute and cheeky eyebrow raise and then turned and grabbed her food. It made his mouth water. Hopefully, his stomach wouldn’t humiliate him again.

“Maybe.” He kept his tone teasing, ushering her forward. They wove their way through the crowd as he scouted out the various vendors, still undecided. He was so hungry that everything looked amazing.

“So, if I asked you out next time, I would have to pay?”

“Are you asking me on a second date?”

“What if I was?”

“I’d have to think about it.”

She stopped dead, right in the center of the main thoroughfare, forcing him to stop, too. “You’d have to think about it?”

He swung around to face her. The other revelers, many who threw them dirty looks, parted to swarm past them. It took a whole lot of work, but he managed to keep from grinning like an idiot. Man, he loved teasing her. He rubbed his finger and his thumb against his chin, a similar gesture as the one she gave him when he asked her about Jake.

The seconds ticked by. One of her eyebrows arched spectacularly. He was sure that if her hands hadn’t been holding her dinner, she would have them planted on her hips. That golden spark flashed in her eyes, and he knew he was pushing it, so he reluctantly put her out of her misery.

“Yes, I think I’d like to go out on a second date with you. Thanks for asking.” He tried, but couldn’t keep the hint of laughter out of his voice.

Her kissable mouth pursed and for a moment, he feared he’d be wearing her fried chicken and potato salad. She narrowed her eyes at him. “So, does that mean I get to pay next time?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you just said—”

“I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. What can I say?”

The physical change in her was infinitesimal, just a tightening around her mouth. But the spark in her eyes faded, leaving them dull and guarded. It was like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. He had no idea what he’d said, but he wished like hell he could take it back.

He was about to ask her what was wrong, but she marched forward, brushing past him. “Let’s get you some food before you keel over from starvation.”