“Agreed.” His lips curled into a stunning, sexy smile that sent my pulse racing faster than a racehorse sprinting. “When are we going to do the deed?”
Holy shit.
Talk about double meanings!
The image of him on top of me entered my head, his strong arms pinning me down, our bodies moving in accord while wave after amazing wave of ecstasy rocked my abdomen. The mere image had me so worked up I gasped, suddenly unable to breathe. As if sensing my naughty imagination, Chase’s gaze settled on me with an intense expression, and all heat drained from my face.
“What?” His mouth twitched at my shocked reaction. “I need to know in case they ask.”
“Obviously, never, because we’re not getting married.” I smirked. “And they won’t ask because sex isn’t something we usually discuss. They’re old-fashioned when it comes to me. You know, no public displays of affection and all that. Sleeping in separate rooms. The usual.” I waved my hand.
“Got it.” He nodded again. Underneath his tone I could detect amusement. He was laughing at me, and I couldn’t blame him. “Where did we meet?”
That was a tough one. Where do you usually meet a stunning male actor when your family expects you to be a nun with no social life, no interest in the opposite sex, and definitely no flirting skills? Worse yet, how do you keep a handsome guy hooked for months with absolutely no sexual rewards? The entire plan was more ridiculous than I’d previously thought.
“You’re a friend of Jude’s, and she introduced us when you helped us move two years ago. We got talking over carrying boxes and realized we had a lot in common.”
“Sounds like a love story you’d tell your grandchildren when you’re old.”
Was he mocking me? I kicked his leg playfully under the table, and he burst out laughing. Yes, definitely mocking me.
“You have a better story?” I challenged.
He shrugged, playing for time. “You could say I brought your pizza, and you liked the stuffed crust so much you had to reorder. That’s when you realized beneath the delivery uniform hid the man of your dreams.” His eyes twinkled.
“That’s the lamest story I’ve ever heard. I doubt anyone would believe it.”
“Why?” He threw his hands up in mock exasperation while regarding me intently. “You don’t believe you could find a diamond beneath a layer of sawdust?”
Was that a trick question?
“Maybe,” I said, unsure where he was heading.
“Because I do. As hard as it might be for you to believe, I do.” His voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I believe there’s more to us than meets the eye, and if we’re willing to take a second look, past first impressions, then we might just find a sparkle we were too blind to see before.”
Why did I get the feeling he was talking about us? I stared at him, my heart beating against my chest so hard I almost feared it’d burst. His eyes turned all broody and intense again, regarding me with a depth of tenderness I had never seen before.
The kind of tenderness that could bloom into love.
I moistened my lips and turned away uncomfortably, seeking escape, if only for a few moments. When I turned back to him, he just smiled, the strange expression from earlier gone.
“Of course, the risk with second looks is that you might not like what you see at all, so….” He shrugged and trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken. In the silence, I watched him pop a grape into his mouth before I replied.
“Except I don’t believe in second looks,” I whispered. I wasn’t even sure what came over me to challenge him.
“You don’t?” He looked up, surprised. A stubborn line appeared on his otherwise smooth forehead. “I gather you’re the first-impressions kind, then. No second chances.”
I shook my head, unsure whether I was confirming his statement, or denying it. All my life I had been taught to remain unwavering and cold, never to cave in out of fear that if I let people get too close to me, the outcome might be ugly. People made mistakes that could rarely be rectified. They would always linger like a persistent stain that might fade over time, but would always be there.
“No second chances,” I said, more to myself than to Chase.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“I am. People don’t change. If they make a mistake once, they’ll repeat it, maybe even over and over again.” I watched him lean back with a strange expression on his face—part puzzle, part curiosity. For once I wished I could just ask him to share his thoughts.
“I should leave.” I grabbed my handbag and stood.
“Sure. Let me close up.” No hesitation. No trying to change my mind. I was disappointed because, for some reason, I had hoped he’d try to keep me a little longer.