More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

“I don’t care what you say—cheese ice cream sounds disgusting, and I refuse to try it.”

“You can watch me try it,” he said generously, and she slanted him an unimpressed side-glance. She followed him to the stall, which had an improbably long queue. Who knew so many people were into cheese ice cream?

Yuck.

He hooked a casual arm around her shoulders as they made painstakingly slow progress down the line. Tina nearly shrugged out of his hold until she realized that he had done it unthinkingly, and if she moved away from him, she’d be making a big deal out of something he didn’t seem to consider particularly significant.

He made wry observations about the people around them directly into her ear, causing her to laugh often. She was enjoying his company. She had never—not even when they were kids—truly enjoyed his company. As a girl, she had been too nervous around him, and after his twentieth birthday, she had spent most of her adulthood avoiding this very situation. But she now found that being the sole focus of his overwhelmingly charming personality was a heady experience. And the thrill of it was giddying. She felt special and interesting and like the most beautiful woman in the world.

And part of her hated it. Because it was a lie.

Still, she shoved aside her reservations and told herself to enjoy this for what it was. An ephemeral moment in their tumultuous relationship. Likely never to be repeated.

So, she allowed the cheeky, off-color comments, the sweet smiles, and the constant touching. So much touching. His elbow was crooked around her neck, and his hand dangled down to just above her breasts. He caressed her face a lot, played with her hair, and she was 100 percent certain his lips had brushed against her temple on several occasions.

The butterflies were going crazy, and she was trying very hard to get them under control, but they refused to be tamed. She had no option but to let them soar, and she relaxed against Harris’s side, sliding a timorous arm around his waist.

When they finally got to the ice-cream stand, Harris gleefully ordered his camembert ice cream in a waffle cone. Tina watched him queasily as he consumed his treat with relish while they strolled from stand to stand.

“This is quite good, Bean. You sure you don’t want a lick?” He ran his tongue down the side of the creamy-looking treat, trying to tempt her . . . but the only thing Tina found herself tempted by was the tip of his tongue as it delicately and expertly created grooves in the soft ice cream.

She resisted the urge to fan herself, suddenly feeling incredibly hot and flushed on this cold gray day.

“Uh, I’m good, thank you,” she said, aware of how obviously red her face must be. He looked up at her—his attention previously focused on his ice cream—and his expression froze when he seemed to recognize her reaction for what it was. His eyes sparked.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dropping several decibels. He kept his slumberous gaze on her as he deliberately swirled his tongue around the top of the round scoop of ice cream. Tina’s nipples tightened into painfully hard points while her mind spun with images of Harris twirling his tongue—still cold from the ice cream—that exact same way around her breasts.

“Tina?” His soft voice drew her attention away from her outrageous thoughts. She focused on her surroundings again and saw that they had come to a standstill behind the cheesecake stall. Her back was pressed against the damp plywood material of the temporary stall, and he was standing in front of her, shielding her from the crowd.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice trembling and unsure.

“Fair warning . . . I’m going to kiss you now.” He didn’t wait for her response. Tossing the remainder of his ice cream into a nearby dustbin, he cupped her jaw in both hands and lowered his cold mouth to hers.

She sighed and parted her lips, melting into his kiss in much the same way the ice cream had melted beneath his tongue. She could taste the savory creaminess of the camembert on his lips and welcomed his tongue deeper into her mouth as she eagerly explored the appealing flavor.

He moaned, the sound soft and desperate as he happily feasted on her mouth. The only other points of contact between them were his hands on her face, and Tina, whose hands had been fisted into the lapels of his jacket, found herself wanting more than that. She smoothed her hands down the front of his shirt and then burrowed beneath the sides of his jacket, coming to rest at his waist. That still wasn’t enough, and she circled around to his back and pulled him closer until their fronts were pressed together. Her breasts to his torso, his crotch to her stomach. So close, and there was no mistaking his reaction to their embrace. She felt him, hot and hard and throbbing through the layers of their clothing, and wished for those layers to disappear.