Page 12 of Freedom's Kiss
Adam nodded, flicked on the blinker light, then pulled into a parking lot. “Got it. Which means now I’m supposed to go into judgment mode?” He pulled the car into a parking spot and turned off the ignition.
“I’m twenty-eight and still live with my parents.” She unclicked her seat belt and pushed open the door, slamming it a little too hard behind her. She wasn’t going to spill that she’d only moved back to help her folks out. Her dad already suffered from his pride. She wouldn’t dare drop him another peg by airing what he saw as his deficiency to provide. “Might as well haveLoserstamped on my forehead, right?” It was what everyone thought when they found out her living arrangements. She didn’t care what other people thought, especially since their perceptions were skewed.
Olivia turned, but her movement was cut off by a broad chest in her path. Her eyes tracked from the button at the front of his shirt, over the aviators he’d tucked into the dip at the top, across the small cleft in his chin, which sported more hairs this morning than it had the night before, past lips quirked in a small smile, a straight nose, and into the eyes that had enthralled her with their depth and warmth despite the coolness of their color. They held her captive again, as well as his warm hands on her cheeks. He tilted her face down, then up. Side to side. Then he released her and took a step back, his grin spreading.
“Sorry, couldn’t find any evidence of a loser.” He winked. “And trust me—I’ve seen my fair share.”
Her cheeks heated, and if her skin had been as pale as her mother’s instead of the constant tan given to her from her father, they would have sported a bright-red color. She blinked as she let her gaze roam over the parked cars in the lot so she could get the rush of blood out of her face. He’d surprised her, but it was her fault for momentarily forgetting his penchant for contact and flirtation.
Turning her head back toward him, she took in his lazy stance, hands shoved into the front pockets of his slim-fit slacks, grin fully in place. A fun one, this guy.
Shoving him on the arm as she passed, she called over her shoulder. “Come on, Chef. We’ve got ingredients to find.”
