“Consider me forewarned,” he said softly.
Her eyes darkened. “How in the hell did you just make a single french fry sexy?”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t. You did.” He took a bite of the sandwich and chewed slowly, watching her.
“You’re killing me, Smalls.”
He paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “You’re a fan of The Sandlot?”
“You just earned major points for actually recognizing where that quote comes from.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “My mom wasn’t the most involved mother. I grew up believing Scooby-Doo was the evening news, and if I could find a book to lose myself in? Well, that was the best of all. You’ll be stunned to learn I’ve been a pirate, a mercenary, a vampire, a steampunk inventor and, on more than one occasion, a damsel in distress.”
He licked salt off his finger. “You don’t strike me as distressed.”
“No, I’m not.” She shrugged. “I’ve never been that woman.”
“Want to know my other favorite quote from that movie? ‘Anyone who wants to be a can’t-hack-it pantywaist who wears their mama’s bra, raise your hand.’”
She laughed. “I forgot about that one!”
The sound of her laughter slid through him like some kind of chemical reaction, pulverizing common sense until he was nothing but a mass of desire. “Grace,” he said, choked.
Watching him, she reached over and slid the plate away and flagged the waitress. “Can we get our dessert?”
“Was there something wrong with your sandwich?” the young girl asked.
“No,” Grace answered. “We’re just anxious to share dessert.”
“Very anxious,” Justin quietly added.
The waitress rolled her eyes but took the half-eaten sandwich away.
Lacing their fingers together, he was surprised at how small her hand seemed in his.
“Justin?”
He met her stare, letting everything he felt show in his eyes. “Every time you came into class, every time you stopped by my office with research notes or questions on theory or treatment options, every time we ran into each other on campus—I knew you were smarter and more driven than any of the other students. You were special. There were obstacles, boundaries I wasn’t willing to push. Those are gone. I want you.”
The waitress set the crème brûlée between them. “Enjoy.”
Justin didn’t let go of Grace’s hand. Instead, he picked up the spoon with his free hand and scooped up a small bit of the creamy dessert and held it out. “Bite.” A statement, not a question.
She complied without any hesitation, her lips closing over the spoon, her eyes fluttering shut in absolute bliss.
A rush of heat flooded his groin, and his cock kicked against his jeans.
“That’s delicious,” she murmured, licking her lips.