The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(57)

Four times, five, six …

Seven, eight, nine …

“Hi, you’ve reached Phil Jackson. I’m probably busy in the operating room. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you when I can.”

When voice mail started recording, she hit the end button, and Khai looked at her in confusion.

“You don’t want to leave a message?” he asked.

She shook her head quickly. For a long while, she continued worrying her lip as she stared at the photograph on the screen. “Do you think … he is a doctor?”

“Maybe. We can check.” He got the phone from her and Googled “Phil Jackson MD.” Sure enough, there was a Phil Jackson in Palo Alto who specialized in cardiovascular and thoracic surgery.

Esme snatched the phone from him and zoomed in on the man’s picture. He looked nice enough with his distinguished white hair, glasses, and easy smile, kind of like if Santa Claus worked out and got a shave.

“He is a doctor,” Esme whispered, but she didn’t look happy about it. Her brow wrinkled, and she kept torturing her bottom lip.

“Is that a problem?”

She ran a hand through her head-banger hair and lifted a shoulder. “A man like that … for his daughter … I’m not …” She gave up and looked out the window.

“You don’t think he’ll like you?”

Her eyes searched his. “You think he will?”

“Of course he will.” How could someone not like her?

She surprised him by tackling him with a hug and burying her face against his neck. After a shocked moment, he tightened his arms around her and rested his cheek against hers. Was she sad? Was she happy? Was she crying? He had no clue whatsoever, so he held her and waited.

But as he waited, he couldn’t help noticing he had a very naked Esme straddling his very naked hips. Her breasts were plumped against his chest, and her sex was right there. It took a tenth of a second for his body to respond in the expected manner, and he winced. This didn’t strike him as the right way to react when you had an emotional woman in your arms. He was wishing his erection away, when she brushed up against it, stiffened in realization, and deliberately rubbed herself over his length as she bit his ear.

“Again?” she whispered.

There was only one possible way to answer that question. It looked like they were having morning breath sex after all.





CHAPTER TWENTY



The month that followed was the best month of Esme’s life. Now that she’d gotten the hang of things, waitressing suited her just fine, and she saved up enough to either fix her grandma’s house or buy something better. Her grades in school stayed high. She couldn’t become Esme in Accounting, but she was getting close.

Best of all, her time with Kh?i was like a dream. Things had become easy between them. She knew to turn the exhaust hood on when she cooked with fish sauce, and he’d learned to kiss her every morning when she left for work and hug her every evening when he picked her up from class. He still didn’t speak much unless she asked him specific questions, but that was fine. She talked enough for both of them, and he was a good listener. She’d made an offhand comment about wanting to ride on a sailboat someday, and he’d surprised her today by taking her to Sunday brunch on the water in the San Francisco Bay. It had been lovely. Their first date.

Now they were settling onto the couch at his place. She had studying to do, and his work was seemingly endless. She’d highlighted a few textbook pages before she made the poor choice of glancing up at him. He was wearing his reading glasses again, dressed in formfitting black as usual, and brooding over his computer screen like he was masterminding an elite sniper attack. A peek at his computer, however, revealed spreadsheets instead of battle blueprints.

It was sexy anyway. And she couldn’t prevent herself from setting her homework aside and cozying up next to him. He didn’t seem to notice at first, and she kissed the strong cords in his neck and his jaw.

“Kh?i,” she whispered. “How about—”

His lips met hers, and the rest of the words didn’t matter. Like always, he kissed her with his entire attention and intensity, and it wasn’t long before she displaced his computer and took up the space on his lap—her plan from the beginning.

They bumped his glasses askew, and he grabbed them like he was going to remove them.

“No,” she said quickly and repositioned them for him. “I like them.”

He sent her a puzzled look. “My reading glasses? You want me to wear them … now?”

She bit her lip as she grinned. “They’re sexy.”

“Reading glasses?” He shook his head as he chuckled, but he kept them on. “What else is sexy?”

“You. Naked.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled upward, but then her phone rang and buzzed.

It was the cute little song that played every time she got a call from her mom’s cell phone. She’d chosen it because she’d thought Jade would like it.

Kh?i reached for her purse, which she’d left on his side of the couch, and thoughts fired through her mind faster than lightning: He knew where she kept her phone. He was going to get it for her. He was going to see the picture of Esme and Jade on the screen. He was going to know.

She dove for her bag, but instead of intercepting him, she toppled off the couch and almost cracked her head on the coffee table.