The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(54)

“Okay.”

“Throughout the years, I’ve seen pictures of you with party girls. Ones who will literally paint the walls with you. I’m passably cute at best and probably the most straitlaced girl you know, so what made you kiss me . . . or plan this day and dinner?”

“First of all, you are a beautiful woman, so cut the passably cute crap.” Her expression suggested that she didn’t believe him. He thought for a moment, searching for the words to describe how she made him feel. “I can be myself with you—the good and the bad. I don’t think I realized how rare that was until I spent time alone with you. Now it’s as important as oxygen. And when you say you believe in me, I trust you because you aren’t expecting anything in return.” He shrugged. “You make me feel grounded and free at the same time, if that makes sense.”

She stared at him with a soft expression in those wide eyes. “I didn’t expect that answer.”

He’d reached his limit of intimate conversation, so he shrugged and changed the subject. “Let’s see if we can bump up the reservation to an earlier time.”

She nodded without pressing him into a deeper discussion about that kiss or his intentions.

Dinner passed in a pleasant ninety minutes once they’d climbed the stairs to the Chanler at Cliff Walk, the boutique hotel in which the restaurant was situated. His father probably hoped to refurbish the soon-to-be-acquired chain of coastal boutique inns in this fashion—romantic, elegant, upscale.

They’d been given a small, round table with a view of the bay. After dining on oysters, lobster, and a tableside flambé, they practically rolled out of the restaurant. He loved her appetite. The soft sway of her hair as she ambled ahead of him made him wonder if she was as voracious when it came to more intimate pleasure.

They strolled out on the back terrace, peering down at the sea below. “I should’ve brought my camera from the car. The moon and the sea and you—”

“Sometimes a memory is better than a photo. Besides, my lips will turn blue in a matter of minutes. Not a good look.”

“I’d keep you warm.” He glanced up from the sea to her. “What are the chances I could convince you to extend this walk on the wild side?”

Before she answered, he gathered her in his arms. She was so petite he could lift her without much exertion. She didn’t push him away, and even in the dark, he could see her cheeks warming.

“What are you up to now?” she asked.

“Whatever it takes to prolong the night. You’re more relaxed here than you are at home.” She pushed him away every chance she had when other people were watching and waiting. Here she seemed less inhibited. “Let’s run away for a while, or at least take a room for the night.”

His hopes soared when she didn’t shoot him down right away.

She laid her cheek against his chest. “You’re making it very hard for me to keep my head, Logan.”

“Good.” He held her tighter. “It’s past time you led with your heart.”

“Except my heart can’t be trusted.” She peeked up at him. “I don’t think I can be ‘fluid,’ not even for you.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, disappointed but not surprised. It had been a long shot. “Then we’ll go home. If you change your mind, let me know.”

Ninety minutes later, he pulled his car up to the curb in front of her house.

“I’m impressed. You managed the ride home without the mask and without turning green. A little pale at points, but not green.” He grinned.

She unwound her purse strap from her fingers, then briefly touched his shoulder. “This was a memorable day, Logan. Thank you for planning it.”

“You’re welcome.” He killed the engine. “Can I come inside and see what you’ve been working on for my place?”

“I’m not finished with the plan.” She clutched her purse in front of her like a shield.

“Okay, then just invite me in and we’ll see where the night takes us.” He opened his door before she could say no.

When he rounded the hood, he met her on the sidewalk.

“Logan, I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I’m not like most girls you know . . .”

He stood face-to-face with her, gently playing with the ends of her hair, watching for a sign. Any sign that would bring him relief from all this suppressed want. “That’s exactly what I like about you, Claire.”

He brushed his thumb along her forehead and tucked her hair behind her ear, then traced the cup of her ear and along her jaw, coming to rest on her lower lip. She stared at him, short of breath.

“Logan—”

He pressed his finger to her lips. “Don’t ruin this moment by reciting all of the reasons you think this is a bad idea. Hold those thoughts. Let’s pretend that no one else exists for a while . . .”

He removed his finger, then leaned forward, his lips a hairbreadth from hers. She didn’t move except to close her eyes, a move he took as consent. He lifted her chin and kissed her. She tasted like ripe, sugar-sweetened strawberries, and he wanted to devour her right there on the pavement. “Claire, this feels right, doesn’t it? There’s something here worth exploring.”

“Something more than a one-night stand?”