Page 50 of Love on the Run

There was another feeling rushing to the surface, ready to be named. Was it safety? Security?

Hope?

Beau had taken everything negative about her current situation and somehow drained the hurt and filled her with joy.

She’d always been careless with her heart, giving it to the first man who looked her way. Now that Beau was looking at her, the thought of losing him the way she’d lost Dean or any of the other men she’d dated seemed like a much greater risk.

Losing Dean had wounded her pride and damaged her self-esteem, but nothing else was injured.

If she allowed Beau to have the power over her that this kindling foreshadowed, he could do more damage than anyone else. She already trusted him way too much—so much that it seemed an extension of trusting herself.

Which, she’d recently found out, she shouldnotdo. Hence her decision toalmostmarry Dean Simmons.

Anna washed, rinsed, and dried her hands. Beau wasn’t Dean, thankfully, and she wasn’t going to let her ex hold any kind of sway over her future.

When she opened the door to step out of the washroom, Beau was leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his charcoal slacks. The light-gray shirt he’d worn to dinner really popped against his dark skin and hair.

He straightened and offered her his arm before walking back to the table with her at his side.

Yep. She was completely caught up in Beau’s gravity. Chances were high that she’d get her heart broken this time.

The waiter returned with two long, narrow plates just as they sat down. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and pointed the light at each small bit of food as he introduced each concoction.

Then he was gone again with a polite, “Enjoy.”

Of course, Anna’s choices were in front of Beau, and his choices were in front of her. They’d have to make a smooth switch.

“It looks good. Which one do you think I’ll choose first?”

Beau picked up a tomato, mango, and basil bruschetta on a tiny slice of toasted sourdough and lifted it between them. “This one.”

Anna bit her lips between her teeth before shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he asked, pinning her with a stare that dared her to admit it.

Huffing in defeat, she whispered, “Okay. It is.”

Beau gave a small nod with his chin. “Open.”

The air, her skin—everything warmed in the second she hesitated. When Beau didn’t back down, she leaned forward an inch and opened her mouth. He placed the small bite on her tongue, brushing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. It was the briefest of touches—so fleeting she could have imagined it.

But she didn’t. Her lip tingled where his rough thumb had touched.

Fighting to breathe while the adrenaline surged through her body, she closed her mouth to chew. The tomato and mango burst over her senses, and her eyes widened.

“How is it?” Beau asked, entirely focused on her—hanging on her every word.

She swallowed the bite and wiped her mouth. “Amazing. So good.”

Beau’s gaze darted to the plate in front of Anna. “Which one am I choosing?”

She looked down at the offerings. A cranberry brie bite, a slice of spiced apple sprinkled with cinnamon, and a pinwheel with thinly sliced ham in the center.

Deciding on the pinwheel, she lifted it between them and raised her brows in question.

Beau nodded and leaned forward, opening his mouth for the bite. When his lips brushed her fingertips, the tingle shot all the way up her arm.

Ha! She was not only having dinner with Beau Lawrence, but he actually seemed to be enjoying it. How did they get here, and why did she love it so much?

---