An Unexpected Chance (Insta-Spark) - Page 11

Amy reached across the table, clasping my hand. “You’re better off without her, then.”

I met her understanding gaze, flipping my hand over and squeezing hers. “We are. But you’re such the opposite. You enjoy life. You’re open and real. It’s refreshing and—” I ran a hand through my hair “—I know it sounds stupid, but I find it endearing. I like you.”

She smiled. “I like you too.”

The waiter appeared, setting out our desserts and coffee. He left, and she picked up her spoon, holding it up in challenge and winking at me drolly. “But I love desserts, so my affection for you means nothing. I fight for the last mouthful.”

I picked up my spoon, tapping it against hers.

“Duly noted. May the best man win.”

She grinned. “He is going to be a she.”

And we dug in.

* * *

We walked to the tavern, my arm cinched around her waist, tucking her into my side. It was a lovely night, the scent of the ocean strong in the air.

“God, I love it here,” I said. “The scents and the people. The atmosphere you only get in small towns.”

“I know.” She hummed in agreement. “It must be a huge culture shock coming from such a big city to Nova Scotia itself, never mind such tiny towns.”

“It was and is at times. People knowing my name. The bakery remembering I like the sourdough loaf when I go in. Getting greeted by name at the pharmacy or the waves I get as I walk down the street. Everyone talking to Mia. I don’t think that ever happened back there. It takes a bit of getting used to, but it’s awesome. I want Mia to grow up with this surrounding her.”

We entered the tavern, the noise and lights loud and bright. We found a table in the corner and ordered drinks. I tried not to laugh when Amy looked over the appetizer menu for “later.”

“We might get the munchies,” she explained. “I’ve had the nachos here. Delicious.”

“Good to know.”

The band came on, a lively Celtic group. The music was upbeat, fun, and loud. There was a small dance floor, and somehow I wasn’t surprised when Amy pulled me to it. I wasn’t much of a dancer, but I noticed no one really was. They moved to the beat, waving their arms, stomping their feet, and it was easy to get caught up in the infectious sound. The few slower songs they played, I pulled Amy into my arms and we swayed together, moving as if we’d done this hundreds of times before. She molded against me as if she was made to go there. It was an incredible high. I couldn’t recall the last time I had enjoyed myself this much.

When the band took a break, so did we. The required nachos were ordered, I got Amy another drink, and I got a tonic and lime since I was driving.

She shifted her chair so we were side by side, and I draped my arm over the back, pulling her even closer.

“Having a good time?” I asked, bending close to her ear so she could hear me over the din. The tavern had gotten busier, the noise level high.

She turned her head, our eyes locking. “The best,” she assured me. “This is the best date ever, Simon.”

I had no choice. She was close, warm, and intoxicating. Sexy and inviting.

I had to kiss her.

So I did.

* * *

AMY

My God, the man could kiss. His full mouth felt like heaven on mine. His tongue was like sin. Sliding, stroking, teasing. Possessive and persuasive one moment, gentle and coaxing the next. He made my head spin, my body hum, and my senses explode. I wanted him more than I could ever remember wanting another man. The entire night had been foreplay. His smile and laughter, his moments of vulnerability. The intelligence and kindness that radiated from him. And for the love of all that was holy, his body. Tall, strong—hard muscles that molded my softer curves against him. Large hands that held me tight. Hair I wanted to sink my hands into and yank as he devoured my mouth.

Then a loud thump startled us, and we pulled apart. The waitress grinned at us. “Your nachos,” she said with a wink. “Save the dessert for home, eh?” She was laughing as she walked away, and I felt the heat of my blush on my cheeks.

Nevertheless, I tossed my hair back and met Simon’s eyes. He wasn’t at all embarrassed. In fact, he looked quite pleased with himself as he handed me a plate.

“Time to fill up the tank,” he teased. “I want to dance some more, then I want to take you somewhere private and kiss you until you’re groaning my name and begging me.”

I leaned close, my mouth to his ear. “Begging you for what?”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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