Page 25 of Single Girl in the City
Her legs had to do double-time to match his pace, but he didn’t slow down. He liked how her body moved when she had to put a spring in her step—since everything else springed to perfection.
“You want to kiss me.”
He looked over and the pulse at the base of her neck went into hyperdrive. “That’s not in my journal,” she said.
Her gaze was locked on his mouth, and he could have sworn he spotted a flash of desire there. “Maybe not. But then why are you staring at my lips?”
She didn’t say a word, so he stopped, and the dogs immediately heeled. Before she could walk past, he took her hand in his. And while that samezapwas there, neither let go.
He moved closer, so close he could smell a fresh, herbal scent that made him hard, and spotted a double whammy of heat and hesitation in her gaze. “Abs?”
“Because I do want to kiss you, but I can’t.”
He cupped her hip and tugged her against him. “What’s the problem?”
“For one, I’m leaving.”
While he was expecting a lot of reasons, that hadn’t even made his top ten. Him being a confirmed commitment-phobe, that they’re complete opposites, that he was a notorious flirt. Those he’d been anticipating. But this, this was as good as a green light. He’d been holding back because he wasn’t a long-term bet and she was a go-the-distance kind of woman. But if the only problem in her head was that she was leaving, then that was a problem easily solved.
“When?”
She moved closer, placing them face to face. “As soon as I finish a few things.”
“That timeline works for me.” Cupping her cheek, he ran the bed of his thumb down her jawline to her lips. He slowly lowered his head until they shared a breath, just for a beat but long enough to know that this was happening. He gave her the chance to back away. She didn’t. In fact, she moved closer. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“I know,” she said, but then surprised him.
She tugged him down by his coat’s collar and pressed her mouth to his, sending a pure electrical jolt through his body.
The kiss was deep and slow. One hand was holding his coat, the other on his chest. His hands were doing more wandering than holding—he kept it PG since they were on a street corner, but it bordered on PG-13 when he realized just how warm and curvy she was. So damn curvy, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.
The kiss ended way too soon but just as slow and deep as it had started. With one last peck she backed away. “That was a mistake.”
Chapter Nine
Happy Things:
When you use up all your sick leave and call in dead
It was Monday night, Oregon State was playing University of Oregon, and with four-dollar drafts, Stout was busting at the seams. Loyalties were drawn, families split down the middle, and tensions were at an all-time high. It was Oregonian sports at its finest.
He and the rest of his brothers had finally managed to all get in the same six square feet. Even his brother Clay had flown in for the night. They’d been there just long enough to finish a pitcher and for their order to arrive. Owen hadn’t eaten since before the lunch rush and could already taste his tri-tip sandwich.
He’d just taken his first mouthwatering bite when raised voices sounded. Setting his sandwich down, he hung his head. “Are you kidding me?”
“Doesn’t sound like kidding to me,” Rhett said, sounding oh so amused with himself. “Sounds like someone needs a bouncer.”
“I already showed two assholes the door and warned the six surrounding tables.”
“Maybe you should have gone the extra mile and warned that seventh table.”
Owen looked up and gave his brother a long, narrowed glare. “You’re part owner, you go handle it.”
“And damage these hands?” Rhett wiggled his fingers like a little girl playing cat’s cradle. “Do you know how much they’re insured for?”
“Great, then send your agent in on your behalf.”
Gage laughed, big and loud and like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Josh was busy studying his plate so as not to meet Owen’s gaze. Then there was Clay, sitting back with a stupid grin on his face. And that’s when they heard it, the familiar nails on a chalkboard voice that could only belong to one person.
