Page 404 of One More Kiss

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

Grimacing, I admit, “You kinda stick out like a sore thumb.”

“It’s the fancy suit and watch,” he quips.

Tilting my head to the side, I study him. Again. But I can’t help it. The guy’s an enigma. “Maybe. Do you miss it, though? Living in a small town?”

He stares thoughtfully out in the distance, scanning the horizon as if it holds all the answers. “I didn’t think I did.”

“And now?”

He turns to me, scanning my face the same way he studied the empty ballpark. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

The air turns electric as his cool gaze bounces around my face with staggering intensity. It’s charged with an energy that’s so heavy, so full, that I have a feeling the tiniest of sparks will turn it into an inferno.

And I’m not ready to be consumed yet.

“Hmm,” I hum, tucking my knees to my chest.

“Hmm,” he mimics, his gaze dropping to my lips. My tongue darts out and moistens them, but I don’t lean closer. I feel like we’re walking a tightrope, and at any second, we could fall. But not yet.

Not yet.

He shoves the last bite of taco into his mouth, breaking the spell in the blink of an eye. His strong jaw flexes with every chew, making him look chiseled from granite. I shake off the urge to lean forward and nibble on his five o’clock shadow before lifting my barely touched taco and waving it back and forth.

“So?” I prod. “What do you think?”

“I think these are the best damn fish tacos I’ve ever had.”

“Told ya.” I take a bite, barely holding in the moan as the flavors of cumin and paprika explode across my tastebuds.

So. Damn. Good.

I swallow the deliciousness, then ask, “So, Hawthorne. You ready to tell me your first name yet?”

He laughs and leans back on the grass, using his elbows to keep from fully lying down as he looks up at the stars above us. “Not gonna let that one go, are you?”

“Nope. I’m a stubborn one.”

“I can see that.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“That’s because I haven’t decided if I’m intrigued enough to divulge it yet.”

I quirk my brow and scoot a little closer. “Come on, I’m very intriguing, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“That you are, Sammie Norris.” His gaze heats slightly as it rolls over me with appreciation. “Maybe with a bit more effort, you could intrigue me even more. You know, push me over the edge.”

“Are you leveraging your first name for some free action in the middle of an empty park at close to midnight, Mr. Hawthorne?”

“I’d hardly call it free if I have to give you my first name in return,” he counters.

Throwing my head back, I laugh. Hard. “And you think your first name is worth the action I’m willing to exchange? What if it’s something generic like Tom or John?”

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