Page 22 of Moonshot

I feel him behind me, almost before I hear the words. Spinning on my heel, I look up to the man of my dreams. It almost doesn’t feel real, moving from disappointment to delight so quickly.

“Go on, sit down,” he encourages with a sweet, sensual tone. As I feel him lightly push me toward my chair, the sensation of his hand on my back instantly causes a familiar current to travel along my spine. As I take my seat, he lifts the cover from my plate and hands me the utensils. “You need to eat.” Abruptly, Michael darts from the room, and I sit wordlessly, wondering where he’s gone. I don’t contemplate his departure long before he returns with his plate and a bottle of water. Pulling a chair up to the opposite side of my desk, he starts to dig into his food.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I admit I’m still reveling in his being here. I was so worried he’d have to go before I returned. Looking at this handsome man before me, I’m a bit overcome. Is it simply relief that he stayed? Could it be from having renewed faith he’s interested? Or is it merely his presence after all this time? I’m finding it difficult to relax enough to enjoy my food. I only want to sit and stare.

“You’re welcome. I can’t stay long. But it wouldn’t be a date unless we ate together.” He winks.

Smiling back at him, I tease, “Well, this may be the fastest date in history. Makes the speed lunch at Luigi’s feel like an all-day affair.”

He chuckles, and I pick up my fork, grateful for the food and the undeniably appealing company. As we quickly eat our lunch, it’s as if we’re in his car on the ride back to the office from Luigi’s again, unable to stop smiling back and forth at one another in silent communication.

“I know this date isn’t quite over yet,” Michael clears his throat, “but I wondered if you’d agree to a third?” The hopeful look in his big brown eyes is more appetizing than anything on this plate.

Giggling, I smile back at him. “Why, yes. Could it be a tad longer?”

“Yeah, at least nine innings long. I thought maybe I could teach you about baseball at a Washington Nationals game.”

Looking incredibly ladylike while quickly swallowing a mouth full of chicken Caesar salad, I blurt, “Yes. I’d love that.”

Sitting a little taller in his seat, I watch as he reaches for his drink and takes a big gulp of water. His Adam’s apple is hypnotizing me, bouncing along the column of his throat, beckoning my stare with the way his neck is arched. “Great. I’ll pick you up next Friday. Any chance you could get off work a little early? The game is at 7:00, and DC traffic can be rough at that time of day. If not, we can go some other time.”

“No, I think I can manage that. Dr. Stark’s actually out of town next week, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

I watch as he stands, reaches for his plate and utensils, and leaves the room momentarily. Returning empty-handed, he comes around to my side of the desk and sits on the corner next to me. A tremble settles into my limbs at his nearness. There’s a noticeable crackle of electricity between us. It’s almost palpable. I have to put down my fork and take a gulp of cool water to steady myself. I’m giddy being this close to someone I’ve fantasized about in the way I have Mick. After he made it abundantly clear via text that he’s had similar thoughts only makes me more wired.

As I look up at his beautiful face, he cups my cheeks and leans down little by little. Almost at a snail’s pace. It’s like this is happening in slow motion. I feel his strong, soft lips press to mine, and I could faint from the headiness of it. The kiss is soft, gentle, and warm. He pulls back slightly, and I feel his tongue dart out to lick my lower lip before nibbling on it. Mick drops another tender kiss to each corner of my mouth before placing one last soft peck on my lips. I can’t speak. The kiss alone feels like the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced. Pulling away, he smiles at me and stands.

“Thanks, pretty girl. If I don’t leave now, neither one of us is going to get any work done.” As he walks to the door and turns, I can’t help reaching up to glide my thumb along the now sizzling flesh of my lower lip. I’m sure my face is bright pink. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

In a daze, I try to find words. My voice comes out scratchy. “Okay.”

And with that, he gives me one last panty-melting smile before walking out the door.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Ava

I admit it. I feel like a love-struck teenage girl. My mind is constantly drifting to a buff ballplayer, heart fluttering at the possibility this could be real. Excited about taking a chance but trying to push down my eagerness so I don’t fall headfirst into disappointment and heartache. I know he’ll be meeting me at the office in a few days for our date with the Washington Nationals, but I just can’t get the thought of that dreamy kiss out of my head.

Mick’s called once to say goodnight while he was away and sent some sweetI’m thinking of youtexts. Little notes to share how he’s equally excited about our upcoming evening together. But try as I might, I can’t seem to focus on anything else tonight.

I’ve had a full day at work and had an enjoyable meal with Carson this evening. I’m tired, but thoughts of a naked Michael in the shower with me after I returned home have gotten me feeling too aroused to settle in. The text messaging the other evening was about as close to sexting as I’m ready for with him yet. But maybe just knowing he’s thinking of me too will allow me to finally drift off to sleep. Reaching for my phone, I bite my lower lip.Oh, what the hell…

9:40 p.m.

Ava: Hi. Can’t stop thinking about you.

Michael York

9:47 p.m.

Mick:Hi. And I can’t stop thinking about you.

There. That should be enough to get to sleep, right? Wish him goodnight and tell him you look forward to-

Michael York

9:51 p.m.

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