Wound Up(14)
A short bark of laughter escaped him. “Enjoyed it that much, did you?” Spindly fingers of unease skittered along his spine. He would have preferred to keep his dancing and the club out of whatever happened between them.
Shoving her hair off her forehead, she nodded. “I enjoyed it way more than is probably legal in most states.”
“Careful, Ms. Cooper. We can’t afford to have the club shut down.” He pulled into the café’s parking lot and lucked into a space at the very front as another car left. “Out of curiosity, what would the charge have been?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Unadulterated lust compounded by indecent thoughts in a public place.”
The grin that stole over Justin was absolute. “You’re quick.”
This time she was the one who shrugged. “I’ve been suffering long enough to know.”
Hand on the door handle, he paused. “Suffering?”
“Three years, Justin.” Soft words in the car’s semilit interior. “For three years I’ve watched you and laughed with you and wanted you. Remember when you had us get up, one at a time, to defend our theses? I bombed it because I couldn’t stop staring at you. You were kind, and didn’t call me out for my horrible delivery. I liked you even more for that, and I couldn’t stop wondering if you were half as compelled as I was to skip class and play doctor.” She smiled, the look somehow bittersweet. “I won’t pretend it wasn’t that way. Not now. Not anymore.”
His heart lurched. “No. No more pretending.” Drawing a deep breath, he pushed the door open. “Food first. Talk second.” He glanced back. “And we’ll discuss the specific terms of Monopoly.”
“Deal.” She slipped out of the car and met him at the door.
Taking her hand was entirely natural. He silently led her inside and snagged the first available table. A waitress was there in a heartbeat, and she immediately started to flirt with Justin, irritating him. The last thing he wanted was Grace to think he was an unconscionable jerk who had no respect for his date.
Date.
And that’s really what this was. It had started as something different and evolved into him sitting across a table from her, watching her, wanting her. That last hadn’t changed.
“Sir?” The waitress twirled her pen. “Does anything here sound...appetizing?”
Reaching across the table, he took Grace’s hand and met her eyes when he answered. “Yeah, something here is just about perfect, but she’s not on your menu.”
Grace blushed, charming him to the core.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll have a turkey club, no mayo, and fries. Grace?”
“I didn’t read the menu.”
“Do you like vanilla?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
She watched him, searching his eyes before answering. “Yes.”
“My date and I will have the crème brûlée with fresh fruit. Just one spoon. Thanks.”