Page 53 of Casita Casanova
Maryn rolls her eyes. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I lick my lips slowly and her gaze falls to my mouth.Yes, I know exactly what I’m doing, Maryn.She pulls in a ragged breath, watching me with desire in her deep brown eyes.
I open my menu, pointedly ignoring her.
“Does it evernotwork in your favor?”
I lift only my eyes. It always works in my favor, but I like this game. “Hmm?”
“Cas.” She shakes her head in mock irritation. “I think you’re too smart to play dumb.”
I close my menu and lean forward, giving her just a small taste of my smile. “You think I’m smart?”
Maryn snickers, rolling her eyes.
“You look really beautiful tonight.”
Her eyes lock with mine. “Thank you. This is still not a date, so you can go ahead and turn that off.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She draws in a deep breath, drawing my eyes to her cleavage as it rises and falls.
“I’m serious, Cas.”
“So am I.”
She shakes her head. “I’m forty-two.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And?”
There’s a smile playing at the corners of her dusty rose lips. “Look around you, Casanova. I’m the oldest one in here. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
I tear my gaze away from her and scan the patio. I’m not sure she’s right about the age thing, but we’ve definitely been noticed. I want to tell her that this is just what life is like for me, but that sounds cocky as hell and Maryn isn’t the kind of woman who’d be impressed with that kind of statement.
So I turn my attention back to her and shrug. “We look good.”
“Youlook good.” She picks up her menu and focuses on it, leaving me to stare at the top of her head and those wild curls that frame her face.
“Two compliments in one night, Maryn?” I shake my head slowly,tsking. “I might get a big head.”
She looks up at me over the top of her menu. “Two?”
“Two heads?”Is she talking about Thor?
“Compliments. You said I gave you two of them.”
Lifting my fingers to count down, I explain, “First you said I’m smart. Now you think I look good.”
She shakes her head, laughing at me. “You’re too much.”
“Possibly.” I scan the menu quickly and decide on the assorted taco plate, then close it and rest my elbows on the table to watch Maryn. Whether or not I’m too much forherremains to be discovered. Something about her tells me she can handle me just fine.
All of me.
Her lips twitch under my stare, but she ignores me for what feels like a long fucking time, then she finally closes her menu and looks up at me, a coy lift to her eyebrow and a challenge in her eyes.
A server approaches to take our drink order. I focus on Maryn. “A pitcher of your house margaritas.”
