Hot to the Touch

“I think so.” He grinned at her. “But any place with you would be.”

“And potato chips.”

He touched her shoulder playfully. Even that tiny touch made her melt with longing. “I guess Raoul’s Place will be opening soon.”

“I guess.” She was surprised he’d bring up the topic that way. Almost cheerfully.

“I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

She sent him a sidelong look. What the hell? “Really?”

“Really.” He looked smug, tossing back chips that would have zero effect on his incredibly toned body. “I have a strong feeling the opening is going to be a disaster.”

Something in his voice made her sit up and take notice. “What makes you say that?”

He shrugged. “I have this feeling.”

“You have a feeling?” She had no idea what to make of this.

“Sure. Ace’s not the world’s only psychic.”

“Okay…” She gestured, coaxing out his next words. “So what is this feeling?”

“I don’t think the dishes Raoul stole from you are going to fly at all.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

“I don’t really know, but I have a strong premonition that the recipes in his computer aren’t the ones he stole from you.”

She put her can down on the ground, excitement thrumming through her. “They’re not.”

“They’re close, probably. But on each one, some ingredients and amounts are different. Almost as if they’d been changed.”

“Changed.” Her brain was whirling. He was getting at something, something she was starting to understand she’d really, really like. “Who would do something like that?”

“Gosh, I have no idea. Someone who could get into his place after closing. And someone with pretty strong computer skills.”

“You and Ace.”

He gave her a look of horror. “Me? Ace? Absolutely not. We would never do anything illegal and satisfying and incredibly enjoyable like that. At least I wouldn’t. Particularly not to protect and avenge the woman I love.”

“You broke in and—” Darcy stopped in shock. “Did you say the woman you love?”

“Oh, that, yeah.” He drank a few swallows of soda. “I can’t promise our scheme will totally ruin his opening. But it will certainly throw a wrench into the works. And maybe teach him a lesson. Maybe.”

Darcy threw her arms around him and knocked him back onto the sand, spilling both their drinks. “I just care that you believed me. That you went out of your way, out of your comfort zone to help me. And that you love me.”

His eyes were clear and bored straight into hers. “I do, Darcy. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words were easy to say because they were so entirely true. “I can’t believe you did all that for me, Troy. I can’t tell you what it means to me.”

“Well.” He stroked her hair, then down to her neck and across her back. Oh, the way this man touched her… “There is something you can do for me.”

She grinned, moving her hip so it made contact with his fly. “Really? What’s that?”

His smile faded into seriousness; he rolled her over onto her back. “Come to Marie’s party with me, Darcy. Officially.”

Her eyes widened; she couldn’t move. She stared at him unblinking. Officially. To the party for engaged and married couples.

“Um, Darcy?”

She couldn’t speak. Emotions were jamming her voice box.

“You okay?”

“Ungyuh.”

“Did you get that I just asked you to marry me?”

Tears rose, started rolling down her temples. One landed into her ear. She giggled, then let out a sob, unable to sort out her reactions. He’d asked her to marry him. Offering to put her at the very top of his list. Wasn’t it too soon?

She checked in with her heart. It was nothing but happy and at peace with the idea.

She understood.

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids, then a long sweet kiss on her lips that made her moan with the pleasure of tasting him again. “Does looking as if you have serious indigestion mean yes?”