Page 44 of The Bright Side of Brooding
“Mean trick?” I asked, gobbling up the sight of her so near. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and little wisps of hair haloed her face. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, and her lips eminently kissable.
She smiled, and her eyes flicked back and forth between mine. If I hadn’t become familiar with the feeling, I might’ve worried that the tightness in my chest was due to a medical condition. No, just Summer. Just looking at her made me feel empty and overfull all at once.
“I had no idea what I was walking into until a very famous man greeted me at the door and led me into a warehouse outfitted just like the set of a certain British baking program. I cannot believe you didn’t tell me ahead of time.” Her words sounded frustrated, but she hadn’t stopped beaming at me.
“A good surprise? Not too…” I couldn’t pin down the right word.
“Not too what?”
“I don’t know. Mainstream or something? Like, you watch the show?” I asked like I hadn’t gathered solid evidence at her house the times I’d wandered her living room and skimmed the wall of cookbooks.
She attempted to stifle that blazing smile, but I knew it lurked behind the more serious face she’d put on.
“I think you know very well I do. I’m guessing you saw my cookbook collection and knew exactly how much I’d enjoy a class like that.” She blinked a few times, then hit me with a knowing look.
Even her eyebrows were pretty. I’d never really thought about someone else’s eyebrows, but hers… they were just right. A few shades darker than her blond hair and arched in a clean, smooth curve that tapered off at the edges. I quite desperately wanted to place a kiss at the corner of each.
“It was an educated guess.”
Her smile returned, and she set a hand on my arm. Her skin was cool from being outside. She hadn’t even taken her jacket off yet.
“Thank you. It was a wonderful surprise and an amazing experience. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you enough.”
I looked down at where she touched me. I hoped she wouldn’t move away just yet. “You don’t need to.”
“How did you pull that off? I’m just—shocked. I couldn’t believe I was standing there in a room with him! How did you get that ticket? How can I make it up to you?”
I smiled at that. I’d hit the jackpot, and I knew it. “A buddy in charge of the competition this weekend has some friends in high places. Long story short, I got you that ticket. And you don’t need to make it up to me. It’s a thank you for being here, helping us out.”
Her lashes fluttered. “It was a thank you from the team?”
I could tell her yes. Icould. I’d never meant to outright admit otherwise, but now that she asked me point blank, I didn’t want to lie to her. What a stupid thing to lie about.
“Uh, no. Just me.” I may have mumbled it a bit.
She released a breath, and her fingers flexed lightly against my skin. “Nick.”
The softness. The hint of a plea and surprise. My name coming from her, again. I wanted to close my eyes and remember the sound only slightly less than I wanted to take her face in my calloused hands and claim her mouth. My heart thundered—she had to hear it.
She leaned toward me. “What made you—”
Alicia interrupted her. “Are you ready for dinner? We’ll dish it up if everyone’s good to go.”
Summer straightened, pulled her hand away, and swallowed. “Of course. It smells delicious.”
Her eyes didn’t leave mine.
“Great. Two minutes.” The voice retreated and left us to the moment.
On the surface, the conversation seemed normal. A person thanking another person for a gift. But here, between us, it felt fraught with significance. I regretted my inexperience, the lack of knowledge about interacting with women gaping like an unfortunate chasm.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
Those long lashes fluttered again. I smothered a smile, enjoying the small detail I’d become familiar with in our few meetings. She did this when flustered or when thinking. She did this when I said something she found irritating or nice. It was adorable.
“I did. I…” She sighed, then smiled a small, almost regretful little move. “I really did. Thank you.”
Her eyes flickered over me then, and she stood. Another man might’ve reached out, stayed her, attempted to gather back the moment. It’d been a while since I’d wished to be a different kind of man, but the thought flashed through me.
“Dinnertime!” Art hollered from the kitchen, cutting through my pointless musings.
I stood, stretched my spine and rolled my shoulders, and walked into the kitchen to help dish up the meal. I didn’t let my eyes trace over Summer and promised myself I wouldn’t try to talk to her again. As much as I’d been anticipating seeing her, tonight I felt gummed up. I couldn’t speak, could hardly think near her, and stood on the edge of expressing that simpleminded madness with lips and tongues in another language. Until I knew with certainty she’d welcome that, I needed to keep my distance.
Completely doable. Two more nights in a room across the hall. One more day standing next to her during the competition. Another half hour or so eating dinner across from her. Not a problem.
