Page 20 of Finding New Dreams

He rubbed his thumb over his full bottom lip, his eyes twinkling. “Then does the tour include it? My curiosity has been eating me alive.”

I watched his thumb, and at the word “eating,” I remembered his move with the syrup this morning. My throat tightened, and I forced my gaze back to his eyes. Had he stepped closer?

“No one goes in there but me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And…and maybe the occasional intern.”

His eyebrow quirked. I imagined running my finger over its smooth arc.

Blinking, I added, “For practical purposes, of course. Sometimes my summer interns ask for a few private lessons.”

His eyes tightened with intensity. “I bet they do. Can’t say I wouldn’t love the same.” His voice softened and pulled me toward him like a siren song. “I think nightly lessons with you would solve all my problems.”

My spine snapped straight, and I quickly stepped back, my cheeks burning. What the hell was that? Within two minutes of him walking in, I’d gone from holding my ground to getting caught up in the sensual spell he weaved around me.

“I’m not here to solve your problems, Flynn Higgins,” I rasped. “I won’t—I won’t play this game with you anymore. What happened last night was between two completely different people. Here, you’re Chloe’s brother, the artist from L.A. And I’m—”

“—and you’re Rose Rafferty, the artist from Tangled River and friend of my sister.” Flynn erased the distance between us again, him and his woodsy, spicy scent filling my world. “And the beautiful woman I kissed last night and haven’t stopped thinking about since.”

My breath couldn’t decide if it was going in or out. The edge of the table pressed into my butt. And in front of me, a mere hair’s breadth away, was a sizzling hot, gorgeous man.

I closed my eyes, picturing him lifting me onto the table. I’d wrap my legs around his waist. He’d bend us over the table, kissing me like he had last night. But more, so much more.

I gasped when I felt his breath in my ear.

“Whatever you’re imagining,” he whispered, “I’ll make it happen. Promise.”

My eyes shot open to see his hooded gaze focused on my mouth. For one brief, wild moment, I thought about letting him.

But then I remembered where we were and who he was and what he was doing here.

I splayed my fingers over his chest, my heart hammering at the feel of him. But I ignored the sensation and gently, but firmly, pushed him back a few inches. Enough to slip from between him and the table.

“Never going to happen,” I proclaimed, my chin lifted in the air.

Flynn didn’t look the least bit deterred. Just smiled lazily and rested his hip against the table. “Then how about that tour?”

I crossed my arms. “Why do you want one?”

He shrugged, glancing around. “Told you. I’m curious. I noticed this place last night and was going to come here anyway, see if the owner would have some space for me to work.”

“You mean you’d charm your way into getting what you wanted?”

“Do I sense a little hostility, Rose?”

“No, I just have a better picture of you now than I did last night, that’s all.”

He straightened away from the table, his smile gone. “And what picture is that?”

I pursed my lips and looked away.

“Ah. You Googled me, didn’t you?”

I said nothing, simply looked at him.

He raked his hands through his untied hair, his expression agitated. “Pictures don’t always tell you the whole story. Flaky playboy, that’s what you see, right?” He muttered something under his breath. Then fixed me with an all-business stare. “Fine. I do need a space to work, but I will never get in your way. And I know you need someone to help out around here for a few months, so I’ll do that in exchange for use of your studio.”

I blinked rapidly, torn with uncertainty.

He opened his mouth to say more, but I held up my hand. “Let me think,” I told him.

---