“So much better,” I whisper back, burrowing closer to him. “Do you have a side gig taming wild animals, by chance? Because if not, you’d be really good at it.”
His chuckle is a low rumbling vibration against my face. It’s ridiculous how much I like the sound. I want to record it and play it back when I’m stressed out, let it soothe me like the hypnotic chanting of a thousand gathered Buddhist monks.
Yeah, I tried group chanting with monks. I’ve tried everything. Grief sends people in desperate search of any kind of relief.
“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a veterinarian,” says James, withdrawing slightly to smile down into my eyes. “Does that count?”
“So you’re an animal lover along with everything else. Great.”
“Why do you sound disappointed?”
“I’m trying to find a fatal flaw for insurance.”
“Insurance? Against what?”
I open my mouth but stop myself before blurting, Against falling in love with you. Instead I give him a mysterious smile.
“I forgot,” he says, examining my face. “We’re not getting personal.”
“Although you made an oopsie a second ago by telling me you wanted to be a vet as a kid.”
“We better talk terms over dinner so I don’t put my foot in my mouth again. I need to know what the ground rules are.” His gaze drops to my mouth.
When he just keeps staring at my lips, I start to get self-conscious. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about fruit-to-body-part comparisons right now.”
He says gruffly, “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you, and how much I also don’t want the first time we kiss to be ten steps away from a toilet.”
That sends a little thrill straight through me. I love how he says what’s on his mind without any attempt to hide it or dress it up.
This man is very good for my ego. Very good, indeed.
Smiling and much calmer than before, I flatten my hands over his hard pecs. “Hold that thought until we get through dinner. If I don’t get something to eat soon, you won’t be able to kiss me at all because I’ll be hauled away to jail for gnawing on all the furniture.”
His eyes warm and his smile indulgent, James brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “And here I thought I was the reason you were feeling light headed.”
I grin at him. “Nope. Hypoglycemia is the culprit, my friend.”
We both conveniently ignore the fact that I told him not even ten minutes ago about his effect on my nervous system.
He turns and leads me by the hand out of the restroom, holding it tight even after we’re sitting down at the table and have started on our drinks.