His brows drew down in mock horror. “You gotta be kidding me. Isn’t this place good enough? I’m trying to wine and dine you here.” He waved a hand distractedly.
A laugh escaped her. “Wine and dine me at this sort of place?”
“This is my type of place. And you know you like it.” He braced his hand on the table and leaned in close. So close she could feel his breath feather across her lips, his chest brushing against hers. “No pretenses. No bullshit. I’m trying to show you who I really am. And that I haven’t changed since we were last together.”
“What? That you’re still careless?” Her protest was weak, her heart rate picking up at having him closer. She pressed her hand against his chest. Not to push him away, but to reassure herself that he was indeed real.
Oh God, he was so real. His flesh was hot and hard, even through the soft fabric o
f his sweater. His heart beat like a hammer beneath her palm, matching the aroused rhythm of her own. “Fine,” he said, “you got me. I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed for the better. I’ve grown up.”
“You certainly have,” she couldn’t help but murmur, her gaze wandering over him. He’d grown up in all the right places. Hot and smelling delicious, overwhelming her with a few choice words and that hooded, sexy gaze.
“Why, Miss Cavanaugh, are you interested?”
His drawl was extra lay-it-on-thick and she flicked her gaze up to find him staring at her, batting his eyelashes. “Interested in what?” she asked too quickly. She knew exactly what.
“Interested in me. Because I am sure as hell interested in you.”
…
One date in and he threw all his cards out on the table like some sort of naïve idiot. He did not do this sort of thing. He played it cool. Women were fun; he used to like to indulge in them. He liked even better when he could indulge and move on quickly. No fuss, no muss.
Not anymore though. Since Willow waltzed back into his life, he could think of no one else but her. He wasn’t interested in any of the ones who flung themselves at him on a constant basis. That sort of behavior had become worse now that Jared was a married man. Six months ago, Nick would’ve relished in it. Any woman he wanted any time he could have her? Perfect.
Instead, all he could think about was Willow.
She pushed him like no other. He wanted her. Bad. So bad, he laid it all out on the line like a dumbass. For nothing, considering she played hot and cold all night long, but what else was new? He thought he had her one minute and lost her completely the next.
His heart threatened to pound right out of his chest, he was so worked up. A multitude of emotions ran through him. Frustration. Anger. Lust.
Lots and lots of lust.
“I’m not some sort of toy you lost that you can demand back into your possession,” she said haughtily. “You lost me, but you have no one else to blame but yourself.”
That snobby tone of hers both pissed him off and turned him on. Damn, when he finally got her naked and beneath him, it was going to be so explosive they both might not survive it.
“Fight it all you want.” He touched her again, let his fingers skim the silky soft skin of her cheek, felt her tremble beneath his fingertips. She was irresistible. For whatever reason, her argumentative attitude made him want her more. Made him want to prove her wrong.
He was a better man than she believed.
“There’s nothing to fight,” she whispered, her eyes widening when he traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “One date down, seven to go. After that, we go on our merry ways. Separately.”
“I’ll always own the building your business is in. Don’t ever forget that.” Her mouth was soft and plump. He wanted to kiss her. Suck that sexy lower lip of hers between his own and nibble and lick it. Roam his hands all over her body, see if those specific spots that used to get her all hot and bothered still did.
Yeah. He hadn’t forgotten. When it came to Willow, he couldn’t.
“I’m sure your trusty property manager, Frank, will be a tremendous help to me if I need anything.” The pointed look she gave him was clear. Willow wanted to wipe her hands clean of him and their agreement the minute the terms were complete.
“Stop touching me,” she whispered when he hadn’t answered, his fingers still on her face, his thumb grazing the corner of her lips.
“I like touching you. I want to do more than touch you.” He wanted to do more than touch her, but he’d take what he could get in the meantime. Certainly a little harmless kissing never hurt anyone.
And he was dying to taste her. Drown in her…
“You don’t play fair with your words.” She released a shuddering breath, and he reluctantly dropped his hand away from her face. “You say things like that and you…”
“I what?” This was good. Her admission was progress.