Page 63 of Christmas Candy

“I can’t go to dinner with you.”

He stroked his finger along my chin until I looked up at him.

“Why not?” He leaned toward me, too close.

“You know why. Claudia.”

“Don’t worry about her.” He came ever closer, our breaths mingling.

I wish I didn’t have to worry about her, but she was obsessed with Eamon. Even though she’d brought home plenty of other guys since her initial hookup with him, she still went on and on about how he was the one. “She’s my friend. She’s in love with you.”

“I don’t think that’s true. And I’m certainly not in love with her.” His lips were only a whisper away.

I wanted to taste him, all of him. I’d only been with a few men, but something told me Eamon would erase them all out of my memory. Chill bumps broke out along my arms at the thought. Ceding ground, I stepped back, though it took every bit of willpower I had.

“She would kill me.”

He tilted his head to the side. “But you want to? Go with me, I mean? You just won’t because of her?”

I bit my cheek to keep from giving him the answer he wanted – the truth – that I would love to go with him. “I can’t.”

“What if I told you she was out on a date tonight?”

I shrugged. “She goes on plenty of dates.”

“Is that so? Then how can she be in love with me?”

I’d asked the very same question plenty of times.

“Listen, all I want is dinner. Nothing else. Can you at least give me that or do I need to make a tutoring appointment?” His eyes flickered down to the desk and then back to me.

Thoughts of me bent over the table with him pounding into me from behind flittered through my brain. I shook them away.

Given the way he was blocking the door, I realized he wasn’t going to let me leave the room until I agreed. “Fine, just food, okay?”

He grinned. “Just food. Come on. I know a good little spot.”

Following him out the door, I was finally able to breathe. He’d stolen the air from my lungs, and I already knew he wanted to take much, much more.

We walked out into the brisk night together. I was hyperaware of him, his easy gait, his scent, the way his hands flexed to grip the door handle, the way he put his palm at my lower back and guided me down the stairs. I tried not to think about Claudia, about what she would say or how she would feel if she saw us together.

“I’ll drive.”

“No.” I opened my car door and threw my backpack inside. “I’ll go separate.”

“Come on, now. At least let me drive you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave me the panty-melting smile I loved.

“No.” I stayed strong though my knees were turning to jelly beneath me. “I’ll go separate,” I repeated with more force. “Where to?”

“Fine.” He sighed and walked two spots down to his car before turning back to me. “Follow me. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall. O’Flaherty’s. You know it, yeah?”

“I think so. On the other side of the strip close to the thrift store?”

“That’ll be the one. Drive safe, Laurel.”

“You, too.”

He watched as I closed my door and turned the ignition. Then he got into his car and I followed him across town to the Irish pub. His home turf.

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