Ladies Man (Manwhore #4)(51)

“Wait for the best part.” He smirks as he motions toward something behind the register, covered from view.

The man gives T-Rex a secretive smile and pulls off the cover.

I’m staring at an enormous chocolate Versailles castle. I’m beyond speechless.

He chuckles, leads me around the register, and points at it. “They even have the windows right.” I can feel his gaze on my profile, taking in my reaction.

It’s hard to keep myself in check.

I turn to him—happy, confused, disbelieving, humbled, happy. “You want me to eat my own house? You are shameless.” My voice is breathless despite my words.

For a whole minute, he looks at me with this adorable smile and one lone dimple. Almost as if he’s waiting for me to say more.

The stare wears me down. I drop the act, step into his arms, and hug him. I just hug him and feel him hug me back so easily, and fit me right into his frame, his arms enveloping me like a world of warmth.

I’m not a hugger, so I’m surprised by how much I’d like to hug Tahoe for a long time.

“Happy birthday, Regina,” he says with a textured, drawling voice in my ear.

“Thank you, T-Rex. I didn’t know you knew.”

I pull away with effort and stare back at the castle, blinking away the sting in my eyes.

Ten minutes later we’re outside on a bench by my apartment, enjoying the warm summer wind as we exchange an assortment of bags loaded with chocolates. I nudge him with a bag. “Try this one.”

He nudges me back with his finger before he takes it and pops a chocolate-covered cashew in his mouth. “Nice.”

I look away, out at the street, in a desperate attempt to resist his captivating grin.

As he walks me back home, I’m still carrying a month’s supply of chocolate treats and already feeling remorse about having devoured all that chocolate.

Things feel easy again, almost as easy as before. If only my body weren’t so hyperaware of his proximity.

I’m thinking about it, about him having my picture, pecking me on the lips, when his gentle nudge brings me back from my daydreams.

“Still with me?” He quirks a brow, puzzled as he looks down at me.

I nod quickly. “I was thinking that only a best guy friend would give a girl this much chocolate. Otherwise he’d have to sleep with the chocolate padding her curves.”

“You’re kidding.” He stops walking and incredulously narrows his eyes, which gleam incredibly blue. His eyes leave mine in frustration then they come back, more piercing than ever. “Your curves are succulent. A guy could play with those for hours.”

A sky full of butterflies bursts inside my stomach, and I feel myself heat up.

“Shut up,” I whisper, nudging him with a scowl, unable to look into his eyes. “Everyone and everything is succulent for a T-Rex.”

His eyes become hooded. “Not this one,” he says.

And it’s the way he says it that keeps making these butterflies flap wildly inside me.

I look at him, see the heat in his eyes, and I am so scared to get hurt again.

To get hurt a thousand times more than I ever have.

And I think that he knows it too. There’s never been a guy in my life more protective of me than he is—to the point of protecting me from himself.

But that only makes me feel even more warmly toward him.

He follows me into my brand-new apartment. He sets my chocolate Versailles on my coffee table, and spots my MAC makeup box on the couch. I seemed to have left it there the night before.

“Trent gave me a makeup kit for my birthday,” I explain.

One second he’s smiling and the next he’s raising his fine arched eyebrows. His eyes shutter, but then he grins briefly, with no trace of his former frustration, and he chucks my chin. “Looks like we need another evening at the Pier to color some little fishes.”

What is it about this guy wanting me without makeup?

He walks toward the door.

“Now that would be a travesty,” I say with a shame-on-you voice. “Almost as much of a travesty as eating my Versailles.” Though I admit, signaling to it, “I might eat the little bushes.”

“Eat the bushes? Alright.” He laughs mischievously.

The butterflies catch fire.

I groan and shove him back toward the door.

As I do, he steals one of my many bags of chocolates. “Hey!” I call, as he starts for the door. “You’re stealing my chocolates.”

He turns around and starts backing away slowly, facing me. “Come get them then.”

He raises the bag in the air a little bit and dangles it temptingly.

I rush at him and leap in the air, trying to grab the bag, but he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close—fairly crushes me to his chest—and pecks my lips again.

I start, jerking back from the shock of the touch of his lips, the renewed burst of butterflies in my stomach, which seemed to flutter up to my head.

He waits, watching me, his arm still around me.

His eyes are leveled on mine. His nose is nearly touching mine. We’re breathing hard. He’s not smiling; his eyes are very dark and serious. Watching me with caution and intense interest, he tilts his head, eyeing my mouth from another angle. “Is your boyfriend taking you out tonight?” he drawls out.

He waits there, as if preparing—debating, thinking—to kiss me for real. “Trent and I had dinner last night,” I say breathlessly, nervously pushing at his chest. “And I…have work early tomorrow. You really need to stop doing that, Tahoe.” I turn around and wipe the back of my hand over my lips shyly.