After dinner—which included chicken-fried steak the size of a plate—Chance suggested a walk along the Bricktown canal. Amazed, Cass stared at the renovated brick factory buildings, the lights, the bustle of the crowd. Boats cruised by, and she caught snatches of the drivers’ patter as they pointed out the sights to those on the tour.
Chance held her hand as they strolled. Nerves had nothing to do with her excitement. This was all about the sparks of sexual tension first ignited in the barn. Yet if she was honest, there was something more. Something deeper. Heck yeah, this man turned her on, but at the same time she felt a connection to him. When she fantasized about being with him, it wasn’t...sex. Oh, it was sexy. Sexy as hell, but it was more. She wanted more. She wanted to make love to him. She wanted to explore that tenuous bond developing between them.
Cass glanced up, realized he’d been watching her and had to resist the urge to fan her face. She really wished her face didn’t betray her moods so easily. He squeezed her hand and tugged her closer to him. Stopping in the middle of the walk, they forced people to step around them. She didn’t care.
She’d never been in love, didn’t have a clue what it felt like. Lust? Oh, yeah. She knew all about that flash-in-the-pan heat that burned hot and fast between a man and a woman. And dissipated just as quickly. With this man, though, it was a slow burn like banked embers radiating heat. Cass raised her face, and he obliged her by dropping a gentle kiss on her lips.
They stared at each other, ignoring both snickers and rude remarks from the people they blocked. She wanted to get lost in his eyes, in his arms, despite the prickle of unease tapping on her shoulder. Her parents had loved deeply, and her dad’s world had shattered when her mom died. Only three when it happened, she remembered the crushing sadness—even now. And she wondered. Was that why she’d never let go? Never fully trusted a man enough to let him into her heart?
Could this man be the one? She didn’t know him. But she did. On some deep level, she recognized their connection. Not that she believed in soul mates or anything. But her parents’ relationship had been soul-deep and abiding. And love at first sight, according to her mother’s diaries.
Chance didn’t move. He watched Cass, curious about her thoughts. Emotions danced across her face, changing her expressions. Her soft gaze held him mesmerized. Time seemed to stop, and he was afraid to do anything that might break the mood. He wanted to capture the smile she offered him—hold it and save it in a wooden box where it would be safe. That smile was a treasure greater than anything in his family’s bank vault.
A couple of college kids brushed past them and one of them muttered, “Get a room.”
With the spell broken, Chance led Cassie back to the lot where he’d parked his truck, guided her inside and lingered a moment with the door open. He leaned in, and his lips brushed across hers.
“Now or never, darlin’. We goin’ back to my place or am I takin’ you home?”
“Your place.” Not a moment’s hesitation there. She wanted him—his hands on her bare skin, and hers on his. She wanted to explore him with her fingertips, learn his contours. She wanted to kiss him. All over. She remembered to breathe.
“My place.” The words came out in a possessive growl.
The drive was a blur, but she vaguely noted it when he pulled the truck into some sort of garage. As he rushed her to an elevator, she caught a glimpse of a dark metallic sports car parked back in the shadows—one that looked expensive. The elevator doors slithered open, and he urged her inside. He was a condo cowboy, and that made her giggle. He arched a brow but didn’t say anything, or kiss her. He’d snugged her close to his side right after he hit the floor button but made no other moves. She could feel his heartbeat against her arm, and his quickened breath ruffled her hair.