Meeting His Match (Single In the City 1)

Little bursts of anger lit up her insides like fireworks. He thought he was so clever. But he was wrong.

Leaning toward him, her eyes flashed with a challenge. “Prove it.”

His gaze flickered to her mouth, and he licked his lips while hers parted. Inching forward, he closed the gap as they faced off. The knot in her stomach tightened. Marti didn’t need to have a world of experience to know that look. Everything inside her screamed to pull back.

He was going to kiss her. Yet she didn’t move, didn’t budge or blink an eye.

Instead, she sucked in a breath on instinct as her heart leapt to her throat and she prepared herself. He’d try to prove his point. His ego was so monumental. He thought he’d kiss her and she’d, what? Fall at his feet? Beg for more? Melt into a puddle of goo?

Marti’s spine turned to steel even as her lips tingled in anticipation because he was about to try to make his point and fail.

CHAPTER TWELVE

LOGAN

KISS HER. GOOD.

His sister’s advice was the only thought in his head when he hovered only inches away from Marti’s rose-bud lips. If anyone were to prove how good losing control could feel, he was convinced he was the man to do it.

All he had to do was cup the side of her face. He’d smooth his fingers over the soft curve of her jaw. Her throat. He’d kiss the smirk right off those petal-pink lips.

Her lips were so close he could taste them.

Prove it.

He slid his hand to the base of her skull. The beat of her pulse punched his palm. A sharp intake of breath. He angled her head, watching as her eyes fluttered closed. Thick lashes fanned the tops of her cheekbones.

His own chest squeezed.

When he kissed her, he wanted her to feel it with every ounce of her being. Like a clap of thunder. The blare of a drum. He wanted it to shake the very foundation of her beliefs.

But just as he lowered his lips to hers, he paused.

She expected this, maybe even wanted it. Why?

So she could say he was wrong.

If he kissed her now, she’d be completely unaffected by it. He’d never get another chance to prove his point. The Queen of Single would never lose control, not with all her shields, and swords, and armed guards.

When he kissed her for the first time—and he would—it would be on his terms. Her guard would fall. Her knees would buckle. The breath would rasp from her lungs, and he’d leave her drunk with his kiss.

With a grin, he tipped his mouth up and pecked her forehead.

She blinked her eyes open. Surprise flickered through all that ocean blue. The air between them coiled, tense as a live wire. They stared at each other, the silence stretching like a rubber band. Until his phone buzzed, and she glanced away, the spell broken.

He leaned back in his seat, disappointed at the interruption, and picked up his phone. When he glanced down at the screen, he sighed. It was Allison. He’d been waiting for her phone call all week—dreading it.

With a heavy heart, he shoved the phone in his pocket.

“Someone important?” Marti asked, but her light tone did little to hide her annoyance.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I have to go.”

Her eyes turned to ice, and he regretted the words the second they left his mouth. But what choice did he have?

He stood and reached into his back pocket where he took out a wad of cash and waved the waitress down. After he gave her the money and paid the bill, he quickly collected his jacket, and glanced at Marti with regret.

She barely looked at him as her mouth pressed into a tight line.