Page 11 of Kiss the Girl
“Wow. I didn’t know that we had a caribou supply problem.”
“And you never will if this guy does his job right. It should be a peaceful transition of power.”
“What about that lady?” He pointed to a middle-aged woman dancing like I only wished I could.
“Soccer mom by day, TikTok dance star also by day because she’s too tired at night after making dinner and helping the kids with homework. But she has eleven billion likes on her last TikTok.”
“It definitely explains her moves. Impressive. But wait until you hear about that guy.” He pointed to a guy at the dessert table. “Russian spy. He’s here to recruit Ian and flip him so they can infiltrate the FBI.”
“That’s bad,” I said. “What should we do?”
“I have a plan. I’m going to go get us cake, and I’ll start up a conversation with him that will convince him not to recruit Ian.”
I didn’t know how Noah brought out the kid in me, but I didn’t want to resist. I rested my chin on my fist. “Brilliant. How will you do that?”
“I’m going to pretend I’m injured and tell him Ian judo-flipped me when I told him I think the stars on our flag are tacky.”
“This ends with you coming back with cake?”
“Yeah.”
“I approve. You should go do it.”
“On it.” He walked toward the dessert table, and when he developed a sudden, exaggerated limp halfway there, I burst out laughing. I’d laughed more in two nights with Noah than I had in a long time. He chatted with the guy for a minute while they waited to be served then came back with two plates of cake.
“You forgot to limp back. You might have blown your cover.”
“It’s okay. I gave him a deadeye stare, and he knew without words that his mission would fail. But all that matters is that I have your cake.”
“My hero.” He set a plate down in front of me and took a bite of his own. It left a big white smear of frosting next to his mouth.
“You, uh…” I pointed at my mouth to help him out.
“Do I have something on my face?” he asked. He didn’t look remotely flustered.
“Some frosting.” It was a sizable blob.
“It would be pretty embarrassing if I had to sit here with a blob of frosting on my face, and maybe you saw that and felt kind of bad for me.”
My mouth twitched as I realized what he was up to. “We’re even, remember?” I held up a hand to indicate his high school height. “Shrimpy Redmond. Now let me get that.” I reached over to wipe away the frosting, but I only smeared it more. “I don’t think I’m helping.”
“You should probably keep trying,” he said, smiling. There was the slightest challenge in his eyes. And much like the rogue piece of tulle taunting me on the arbor last night, I couldn’t back down.
I reached up and cupped his jaw to hold it in place while I went to work. He was clean-shaven, but the faint rasp of his evening whiskers against my fingertips raised goosebumps on my arms. He kept his eyes locked on mine, the faintest smile curving the corner of his lips. I slowed down, almost without realizing it, and forgot what I was doing for a minute.
“Got it?” he asked quietly.
I let go of him, and sat back, a hitch in my breathing. “Mostly.” I handed him a fresh napkin. “You can get the rest pretty easily.”
He took the offered napkin, our fingers brushing, and I almost cursed as I felt the spark from his touch race up my arm. This wasnotwhat I needed right now.
I sat back, and he dabbed the rest of the frosting away, his eyes still on me. I needed to break the mood fast. “What about that girl?” I subtly pointed to a pretty woman Brooke had introduced to me as a college friend. She’d come without a date. Let Noah’s attention wander there, to someone who might be an option for him. I thought it worked until he gave a low whistle.
“Interesting case, that one,” he said. “She’s under investigation. Lawyer for the mob.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said. “She looks pretty young for that job.”
“That’s what happens when you make a deal with the devil. She’s sixty, but when you sell your soul…” He trailed off with a meaningful look.
