The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(48)

“You’ll have to ask her. Things like that are too important to go through alone.”

She was right. The discussion was long overdue. He’d been avoiding asking the question because he was afraid of the answer. But it wasn’t about him and his fear of losing his mom. It was about her and giving her support even if she said she didn’t want it. Much as Zara had just done for him.

Zara toyed with the edging on his gown. “My entire family takes things to the next level. They don’t ask for promises. They force-feed me men. I’m surprised one of my aunties hasn’t popped up here saying she was just in the neighborhood and look who is with her—a hapless eligible bachelor who let himself be dragged across the city by an auntie he barely knows because he’s that desperate for a wife.”

“Why don’t you tell them to stop?” Her hair was soft on his cheek, the floral scent partially masked by baby powder and ham kebab. She had changed out of her costume and washed off her makeup before calling the Uber, but her hair still carried the telltale scents.

“Same reason you made that promise to your mom.” She smiled, her dark eyes warming. “I love them. They’re my family.”

A tidal wave of emotion flooded through his veins. “I want to kiss you right now,” he murmured softly.

She tipped her head back and looked up at him through long, silky lashes. “That could be the head injury talking. I had the same feeling in the alley after I ran into the door at the art show.”

“Maybe it wasn’t the head injury.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, delighted when she softened in his arms.

“What kind of matchmaker would I be if I sampled the goods?”

“A thorough one.”

“I can’t do this, Jay.” Her breath whispered over his lips. “My life is one disaster after another. If you’re not already hiding something—wife, kids, criminal past, cat allergy, weird fetish, cult membership, double life—then I’ll unconsciously sabotage our relationship and you’ll never want to speak to me again.”

“I’m not asking for a relationship,” he said. “Just a kiss.” He traced the curve of her jaw, a feather-light touch over soft skin.

“One kiss.” She bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire. “No one has ever asked to kiss me. It usually just happens. We’re talking on the couch or lying on the bed and then our faces move closer and I know we’re going to kiss. My heart starts to pound in anticipation and I hold my breath and . . .”

“Shhhh.” He slid his hand around her neck and pushed himself up so he could clearly see her face.

“Is it now?” she whispered.

“Yes. It’s now.” He kissed her gently, softly, pressing his lips against the soft bow of her mouth. Everything stilled, the sounds of the emergency room fading away beneath the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. With a sigh, she opened to him, stealing his breath with the slow sweep of her tongue. Abandoning himself to the sweetness of her mouth, he pulled her on top of him, palms skimming her lush curves, fingers sinking into the silk of her hair. Her scent, the soft moans and panting breaths, the tremble of her body, the white-hot heat that blazed between them. It was too much and not enough. He understood now why his mother had asked for the promise. A lifetime of these kisses was far better than being alone.

“Blood work.” An amused voice froze the blood in his veins.

Zara stiffened and slid to the side, burying her face in his shoulder. Somewhere in his lust-soaked brain he remembered that they were in a hospital and that he’d come here for a reason, although he couldn’t recall exactly what that was.

“Well, that was fun.” Zara pushed herself up after the nurse had taken another vial of blood. Mercifully, she hadn’t said anything about their lapse of judgment. “I feel like I’ve just been caught making out with the high school quarterback in my parents’ basement.”

Jay tightened his arm around her when she moved to leave. “Where are you going?”

“I think it might be better if I sit chastely on a chair at the other side of your cubicle because if we keep doing what we were doing things might not end well for either of us.”

His chest puffed with pride. “I am an exceptionally good kisser.”

“I give you a B-plus.”

“Are you kidding me?” His voice rose in pitch.

“I can’t give you an A.” She lay back beside him, her head on his chest. “You’d have nothing to strive for.”

“Maybe I should try again right now.” He touched her face, cupped her jaw in his palm.

“One kiss.” She gently moved his hand away.

“One kiss.” Jay smoothed back her hair, listening to the rhythm of her breaths. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. Content. So damn right.

“Jay?”

“Yes?”

“The day we met on the paintball field, would you ever have imagined we’d be here?”

He chuckled, amused. “In a hospital because I fell trying to get away from you? It wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility.”

She pushed herself up on one arm and glared. “That’s not what I meant. Would you have imagined we would ever kiss?”

“No,” he said honestly. “I thought you were the most irritating woman I’d ever met. Also, you shot me in the ass. It didn’t scream romance.”