Page 10 of In Knots

He picks up his spoon and dives it deep inside the now half-eaten pile of ice cream. “Vanilla,” he says, taking a big scoop of that flavour. I expect him to lift it to his own mouth, but he holds it in front of mine.

“Vanilla? Isn’tthata little dull?”

“That’s what everyone will have you believe. But good vanilla ice cream, homemade with real vanilla pods, is the perfect combination of flavour, cream and sugar. You can’t get any better.” He jerks the spoon, encouraging me to open my mouth.

I part my lips.

His gaze is fixed on my mouth as he slides the spoon between them. “See?” he says.

I do. It’s not as strong or as intense as the other flavours but the contrast is perfect.

“Hmmm,” I say nodding, as he withdraws the spoon and dips it in the sundae, this time taking some for himself.

“Where are you from, princess?” he tugs a wafer from the ice cream and snaps it in half, little bits of wafer dust and crumbs busting into the air.

“Studworth.”

“Same.” he says, chewing. “Whereabouts?”

“I don’t think it would be very sensible of me to give an alpha I’ve just met my address.” I take a wafer for myself, nibbling at the sugary biscuit.

“Why? You worried I’ll come and steal you away in the night?” My gaze leaps up to his unbidden and a strange thrill of excitement shivers down my spine. I cough. “I bet we live in different parts of the city.”

I bet we do too. I don’t know any alphas in the suburbs who drive motorbikes and have grease on their hands.

The sky chooses that moment to crack. Lightning flashing overhead, followed by a rumble that shakes the diner and then fat drops of rainwater start to hit the window and slide down the glass.

“My car!” I squeal, leaping to my feet, grabbing my bag, and dashing to the door. The rain assaults me as soon as I step outside, and the temperature has dropped several degrees. Raising one palm above my head, I race through the rain towards my car. Already I can see water skating down the leather seats and bouncing off the dashboard. As I run, I dig my other hand into my bag, fumbling through the contents for the key. I’m still searching for them when I reach the door. The rainwater pounds my head, soaks into my clothes, and my pumps are already wet through.

I curse under my breath, scrabbling in my bag for the stupid keys.

“Hey!” a voice calls and then I feel the warm grip of a hand on my arm. His grip.

He takes my bag from my hand and fishes out my key. Then he leans over the door and switches on the engine.

“Where’s the button?” he shouts over the din of the rain.

I lean over myself and jab at the switch. Then we both duck out of the way as the canvass starts to lift, and he reaches up to bolt down the roof, securing it for me.

When he’s done, he turns to face me.

“Were you really going without saying goodbye?” he shouts over the roar of the storm, rainwater pounding his face and running into his eyes.

“My car!” I protest.

But the next thing I know, he’s stepping towards me, bending his head, to kiss my mouth.

I gasp as his warm lips touch mine and his scent swims into my nostrils along with the heavy smell of the storm and wet grass.

I’m pinned against the door of my car, with no choice but to accept this kiss.

He kissed me. Without asking first. Without my permission. He shouldn’t be kissing me.

Yet, I wouldn’t push him away even if I could. Instead, I let him glide his hand under my hair to cup the back of my neck and press his body flush against mine.

Water runs down our faces and into our mouths as he kisses me, a deep, long kiss, that has that thrill of excitement skipping through me again.

I submit to it. To the movement of his mouth, to the intrusion of his tongue, to the press of his body. And I follow his lead, kissing him back like he kisses me. Caressing those soft lips with mine and tasting his mouth. My arms hang by my sides, but slowly I bring them to his chest, fisting my hands into his wet t-shirt.

Finally, he breaks away, shaking the water from his face, and squinting down at me through the barrage of rain.

“Thank you for the ice cream,” I say.

“Any time, princess,’’ he says. He takes a step back. “Call me. Tonight.”

And with that instruction, he turns on his heels and strides back through the rain to the diner.

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