When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(25)

“Your Acorns?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“I can’t stick one on the back of a Harley. I went online and checked out safety ratings. The Traverse scores high and it seats eight.”

“You sound like a soccer mom.”

“Go ahead. Kick me when I’m down.”

His concern was sweet, she thought. A depth she wouldn’t have expected. He was—

A thought popped into her mind. A crazy one that was so unexpected it might work for both of them.

She angled toward him. “Jack and Kenny are wooing a new client,” she told him. “Living Life at a Run. They’re a smaller version of REI. More equipment than clothes, but a nice get for us. We’ve never been big in retail.”

“Congratulations.”

“We don’t have them yet, but if we can get them, it would be great. The owner is a big outdoor guy. He’s insisting on a camping weekend with the principals of the company before signing on the dotted line.”

Angel’s gaze locked on her face. “Camping?”

She nodded.

“You?”

“I know. It’s not my thing.”

He chuckled. “Wait until he gets a look at your shoes.”

“I know I won’t wear heels camping.”

“How much else do you know?”

“Next to nothing. But you’re a big outdoor guy.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “You want to go camping?”

“No, I want to offer you a deal.”

His hand moved from the table to her bare knee with lightning speed. She felt the warmth of his skin on hers, along with a distinct clenching between her thighs. And this was all without him even trying. Imagine how much trouble she would be in if he put a little back into it.

She knew she had to clear her throat before she could speak. Rather than let him know how he affected her, she took a sip of her martini, then gave a little cough.

“I’ll help you with the Acorns and you help me get proficient enough with the outdoors so I can fake my way through a camping weekend,” she said.

“Done.”

She laughed. “You don’t want to think about it?”

“Hell, no. You’re talking about learning how to hike and maybe kayak. I have two months of weekly sessions with seven-year-old girls. It’s not a fair trade for you, but I don’t care. You offered and I’m saying yes.”

“You’re very obsessed with their ages.”

“They’re babies.”

She pretended to look concerned. “You do realize most seven-year-old girls are already dating these days, right?”

His mouth dropped open. “No way.”

She laughed again. “Just messing with you because I can.”

The palm on her knee moved toward her thigh in a very steady, very purposeful way. His hand was large, his fingers long. Suddenly nothing was very funny and she found herself wondering if they could get a room upstairs. Just for an hour or two. Or five.

He stopped at the hem of her dress. Just stopped. He didn’t move, didn’t hint that there was more. Even so, she found herself breathing a little faster. His gaze held hers captive.

“You were saying?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Good.”

She nodded. “You like that you get to me.” Normally she wouldn’t have admitted anything like that, but why ignore the obvious?

“It makes things equal between us.”

“You’re saying I get to you?”

“Why would you think otherwise?”

Because every woman had doubts, she thought. She put her hand on top of his. “Now what?”

“Now we order dinner.”

He pulled back his hand, then reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. He leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek, then he spoke very quietly.

“Of course I want you, Taryn. I’m breathing, aren’t I? Because it would take being dead to not want you. You told me you wanted me to work for it and I’m more than willing to do that. To wait to feel your skin against mine, your mouth, your br**sts, all of you. But when we are together, it’s going to be my way. It’s going to be slow. There won’t be an inch of you I won’t touch, won’t please. I want to learn everything you like and then figure out how to do it so well I can make you come anytime, anywhere. And I will.”

It was both a challenge and a promise, she thought, as a shiver trickled down her back. Her br**sts tightened as they seemed to get heavier, and the very center of her began to ache and swell.

She turned her head to face him and found their mouths were inches apart. “That’s an ambitious goal.”

“Go big or go home.”

“I thought it was Semper Fi.”

“That’s the Marines.”

His eyes were made up of a thousand shades of gray. He had a handful of small scars on his cheek and forehead. His mouth was perfectly shaped.

She raised her hand and traced the scar on his neck with her thumb. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

He slipped his hand through her long black hair and cupped the back of her head. “I want you,” he breathed. “And I’ll wait.”

Part of her wanted to protest. Not waiting seemed like an excellent idea. But the rest of her wanted to see where this all would lead. When it came to her romantic or sexual relationships, it seemed that all she was doing was going through the motions. Whatever happened with Angel, she would find herself on one hell of a ride. Maybe that was the solution.