Saving Grace (Love Under the Big Sky, #2.5)(8)

“Thanks for walking me home.” She grins.

“My pleasure.” I wait for her to unlock the door, and before she can escape inside, I pin her against the doorjamb and kiss her passionately, deeply. Hungrily.

Her fingers find their way into my hair again, and I long to feel them there as I bury my face in her *, making her come over and over again.

Yes, this is just the beginning for Grace and me.

I pull away from her mouth, drag my nose along her jawline to her ear.

“I’ll be back to pick you up in an hour.”

She swallows hard as I pull away from her.

“Okay, I’ll be ready.”

Grace smiles and turns to walk into her room.

“Grace . . .”

She turns at the sound of my voice, but I’m too late, and she runs smack into the doorjamb.

“Ow!”

“Oh, love, I’m so sorry.”

She giggles and rubs her temple where she hit the hardest.

“At least I’m not standing on ice. I’d be a goner.” She shrugs and waves before closing the door behind her.





chapter 4


Grace

Well, that was elegant. Way to run into the door, like in some slapstick movie, as the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life looks on with lust-filled eyes after kissing you unlike you’ve ever been kissed before.

I wonder if all the British kiss like that?

Because seriously, the man knows how to use his lips.

He never makes me feel clumsy or stupid. When I fall or walk into a wall, he doesn’t look at me like I’m a moron. He laughs with me instead of at me.

And let’s face it, the sexy factor is through the roof.

His hair is as thick and soft as it looks. I never wanted to let go.

So what do I do? Have a weekend affair like the girls suggested? Why not?

Perhaps I’m jumping ahead of myself here. The man asked me to dinner? not to jump into his bed.

Get a grip!

I strip out of my clothes and turn on the shower, then struggle with what to wear. I didn’t bring anything dressy because I didn’t plan to go out on a date. I wonder what he’s wearing?

I don’t even have his phone number.

Shit.

Suddenly my phone buzzes on the bathroom vanity with a number I don’t recognize.

This is Jacob. Dinner will be casual. See you soon.

How did he do that? Would Jeanette have given him my phone number? Probably, but that seems rather unprofessional.

I shrug and type back a response: Sounds good!

I take a long hot shower. My muscles are already moaning from the activity today. Tomorrow will be horrible.

Thank God I’m scheduled for a massage!

In a moment of optimism, I shave my legs and bikini line, then wash my hair and step out of the shower.

Thankfully, my short hair has trimmed a good ten minutes off my time. It blows dry quickly, and with a few brushes with my fingers and a little hair gel, I’m good to go. I keep the makeup simple and casual, then dress in my jeans and red cami with a black shrug over the top. I slide my feet into black Toms and take a spin in front of the mirror. My breasts are pushed up, thanks to the expensive bra I splurged on, and my ass looks great in these jeans.

This is as good as it gets with my limited wardrobe choices.

Just as I smooth some gloss on my lips, there’s a light knock on the door.

“?’Ello, govna!” I exclaim as I open the door, and then I lose all control of my tongue. I think it fell out.

I hope I’m not flapping my mouth about like a guppy.

Jacob is delicious in faded blue jeans and a well-worn white T-shirt with a blue plaid button-down open over it. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

His hair is still damp from a shower, but he didn’t shave that scruff off his chin.

Thank God.

“You are beautiful,” he murmurs. He leans his shoulder against the doorframe and watches me watch him with hot, green eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Hold on, I’m not done,” I reply.

“Done with what?” he asks with a half smile.

“Looking,” I whisper.

The smile disappears from his face, replaced by pure, unadulterated lust.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll push my way into your room, uninvited as it stands right now mind you, and take you up against that wall.”

I blink at him, tempted to take him up on the offer, when my stomach growls.

“I think I’m hungry.”

“As am I. Let’s feed you, love.” He holds his hand out for mine and leads me down the hall to the elevator.

“You smell great.” God, I have got to learn to use a filter when I speak to this man! Shit just pops right out.

“Thank you,” he murmurs with a smile. “I hope you’re content with the restaurant here in the hotel.”

“Sure, I’ve heard good things,” I reply truthfully. “I’ve never been up to check it out, but my friends love it.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

The hostess smiles widely at Jacob as we approach, but the light in her eyes dims a bit when she sees me.

That’s right, he’s with me. At least for a few hours, anyway.

“Hello, Riley.”

“Hi, Mr. Baxter. Your usual table?”