I laugh and nod. “Ummm…yeah, I did notice that.”
“We’ve got an unfortunate reputation and some people are afraid to even try us out.”
“It probably doesn’t help that you send new customers to the competition,” I reply, watching to see if he gets it.
His face is momentarily blank and then he breaks into a grin. “You’re never going to let me live down the fact that I was rude to you that first night, are you?”
“Definitely not,” I say, trying not to smile too widely. My heart squeezes in my chest, and I hate the fact that I’m enjoying this time with him so much.
Aunt Sylvia arrives with two slices of key lime pie, golden and delicious on top of a thick graham cracker crust.
I didn’t think I was really hungry, but my mouth waters upon the sight. “Oh wow, these look so good,” I tell her.
“Duh. Just wait until you eat it.” She saunters away.
“I see where you get your confidence from,” I say.
That makes Smith laugh. The earlier tension from his eyes vanishes, and he gives her an affectionate look. “She’s nuts, but we love her.”
I dig into my pie and take my first bite. And die of pleasure. Holy hell, it’s creamy and tart and exquisite. I can’t help but moan as I lick the last bits off the fork. I close my eyes for a second and just taste, savor. “Okay, she has a right to be arrogant. This is incredible. I would marry her just to have her make this pie…” As I open my eyes, my words drawl off, because Smith is looking at me like he wants to spread my thighs and eat me the same way.
My pussy clenches in a tight spasm.
“You have no idea how sexy you are with how you enjoy things,” he says in a low rumble. The intensity pouring from his eyes almost overwhelms me. A room full of people, but I almost get the feeling that if I told him I wanted to have sex, he’d brush everything off the table and prop me up there and fuck me. In front of everyone.
Something about that thought makes my clit throb harder. I try to sit still in my seat and not shift, not give away my arousal. I’m not doing anything else sexual with this man, I chant to myself. I can’t risk him running off on me again like that. My pride won’t take it. Pie is fine. Pie is safe.
Unless I have pie with him, it appears.
I don’t respond to his statement. Instead, I make myself finish the pie. It’s so damn good that it isn’t a hardship. But Smith’s body heat beside me, the look I’m seeing in his eyes—because he still hasn’t taken them off me—it’s all making my body surge and my nipples harden and my pussy swell and dampen.
This man makes me have dirty thoughts.
I can’t cave. I cannot cave.
Smith’s hand slips down to stroke my jean-clad thigh, and I fight the instinctive urge to arch under his touch and purr like a fucking cat. One night of sex, and he already figured out how I like to be touched. The man is a sex genius, that’s for sure.
I can’t cave.
I drop the fork on the plate and declare with as much casual attitude as I can muster, “That was so good. Thank you.” I force a lightness in my tone. “But you haven’t finished your piece yet.”
“Why are you here in Rock Bridge?” he asks me out of nowhere, his fingers dancing along my kneecap.
My stomach tightens, and I have dual feelings of discomfort and arousal at the same time. I don’t want to talk about Roger. Don’t want to think about him. But Smith opened up to me a little and shared something difficult with me. I should do the same. I select my words carefully so as not to give everything away. “Well, I got this job opportunity, and I took it. I had some stuff happening in my personal life, so coming to a new town was a good way for me to start over.”
“Who was he?” That incessant hand keeps touching me, sliding up my thigh to caress my hip, nudge under the band of flesh exposed above my jeans and touch my back.
“You just assume there’s a guy involved,” I lob back at him. I mean, he’s right, but I don’t want to admit it like that.
“So there isn’t?” His brow is quirked, his gaze heavy on mine. He already knows the answer; I can see it in his eyes. He’s just waiting for me to confirm it.
“My ex,” I relent. “Things didn’t end well with us. I needed a new scene.”
His hand pauses in caressing my back. “Did he hurt you?” The words are said quietly, but I can hear the concern in them.
“Not…” My hand flutters to my throat as I’m suddenly inundated with mental images of the rocky, tumultuous relationship I escaped. “Not…in the way you think. It was just a bad thing for me.” I clear my throat. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore right now, if you don’t mind.”