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He wraps his giant hand around my finger.

“Gingersnap. You’ve got some bite, and some heat, but I think you’re all sweet underneath.”

I try to pull my finger back from him and he envelops my entire hand. Then he raises it to his lips and dusts a very light kiss on the back of my hand. And I’m toast. Brain, heart, and panties are all toast. I’m barely keeping my knees from giving out and falling into a puddle of romantic goo. His voice rumbles through every part of me, and I snatch my hand back before I mount this man and never look back.

“Follow me.” I scurry toward the one place I feel in charge, my kitchen.

“With pleasure, so far this is one of my favorite views, if you don’t mind me saying.”

I gasp and hope he didn’t hear me. I’m not a girl who gets swept away. I observe, then choose someone I like and then curl up to them. Eventually, they tire of me talking too much, or being too intense or too independent and they break up with me. Danny McMahon broke up with me in first grade, right before we had a wedding during outside time because he said I was a jabber jaw. My mind is running as fast as my mouth usually does.

I turn back to him before I reach the kitchen door, trying to stop my skin from goose bumping. “Mr. Pietro.”

He covers his heart and says, “Ah, you remember me.”

“We met recently.” I pop a hip and roll my eyes.

“Sixteen.”

“Sixteen what?”

“It was sixteen days. Give or take some hours. You got a way about you, Gingersnap. I might be trapped.”

He suddenly pulls me to his body. I’m an accessory, he’s so large. But his hands slide down my sides, and I place my hands on his hard biceps, and I can’t explain why, but he feels more right than anything in my life. I’m helpless against this man.

He digs his hands into my hips, and I melt into thoughts of tonight and beyond with him. He hasn’t been far from my thoughts since our ten-minute conversation and the plate of ziti I served him.

He’s so close as he says these words to me, and I struggle not to completely rip my clothes off.

“I don’t get hung up, but I swear, woman, you’re under my skin. Forgive me, I can’t stop thinking about doing this.” My eyes widen as he leans down, and I float away on the feel of his lips as they feather over mine and I moan into him. It’s a soft kiss as his full lips slightly part and then back off.

“There. Now we got that out of the way.” He grins.

“What?”

“The answer to your question.”

“What question?”

“The one about why I’m here. I’m here for that kiss.” My knees buckle. As he passes me and enters my kitchen, I stand there, struck down by his words as I touch my lips where they tingle from his kiss.

“Poppy, can we get our check?” A voice from behind me asks.

“Huh?” I say, still staring at the door where that man just went.

“Poppy! Earth to Poppy?”

Earth? No. I’m not on Earth anymore. I’m in that man’s atmosphere.

“Dinner’s on me. No more food tonight! Night!” I say too loudly. There’s a cheer from my couple of tables and I march after the man who stole my breath and my sanity.

The door isn’t even done swinging when he claps his hands together then points toward the dining room. “That’s how you get shit done.” Then he laughs.

His deep voice fills every inch of my kitchen and nudging all rational thoughts out of my damn head. He’s leaning against my prep counter with his hands gripping the table. It makes his already insane biceps look even larger. And that smile is pure sin. There’s not enough space for me to look away from him. He takes over the room.

“Mr. Pietro,” I say.

“Gingersnap, I think we’ve moved beyond the formalities.”