Until Fools Find Gold (Providence Gold 1) - Page 11

“Uh,” he said slowly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re harping on about your car - and yes it’s a sexy car, a very sexy car, with a cool snake thing on the front grill - but it’s like meeting a hot guy and them telling you the dimensions of their kidneys and liver,” I got out quickly, barely noticing how his expression went from concerned to completely confused. “Followed by their lung volumes and the length of their intestines. You just don’t need to know that shit, well unless there’s an emergency of some sort and those questions are asked. But I don’t know enough about medicine to say if that sort of emergency ever even happened. Well, at least to normal people. Maybe there are some crazies out there who actually keep a card with that shit on in their wallets, or they present it on their first dates?”

This time, when I looked up at him, I completely stopped talking when I saw the look on his face. See? I totally sounded crazy! I couldn’t even remember what I’d just said to him.

My fucking, fucking father!

“I don’t think there’s an emergency where they’ll ask you the dimensions and volumes of my vital organs, baby,” he informed me carefully. “So, are you saying that you don’t want to know about the car?”

Thinking it over before I answered, I tried to make sense of exactly what was bugging me because now he’d said that, it didn’t seem like the genuine reason.

“No,” I started, still trying to figure it all out, but unable to take the silence much longer. “I like knowing certain things about it, but not for an hour.” When he put his hand back on my leg and went to respond, I quickly blurted out, “And your hand. It just sits there,” I waved my hand over his. “It doesn’t even move, it’s like a dead frog. You want it to get back up again and bounce on its way like a normal frog, but it doesn’t. Jesus Christ, would it just move! Up, in, whatever it freaking wants– but for the love of all things holy, move!”

Fortunately, he wasn’t putting the car in drive and taking me to the nearest psychological professional. Unfortunately, he moved his hand off my leg, turned the engine off and got out of the car. I stayed put in my seat resigning myself to the fact I’d be sitting in the car until he got whatever he needed to collect. I would be willing to bet that after he was done, he’d drive me home in silence where he’d throw me at his brother and tell him to put me into an institution and I’d never see him again.

Just as I was working myself up again, the door beside me opened and he leaned in to undo my seatbelt and pulled me out of the car.

Placing his hands on either side of my waist, he gripped gently and then moved them up the way. The size of his hands was never lost on me, but right now the size sure as hell was noticeable. The height difference between us was almost funny on a good day, but that also seemed more noticeable right now as I bent my neck so I could tilt my head back to look up at him.

“Is this good enough?” he asked, his hands now moving around my back.

One skimmed up the way to rest on my neck, the other skimmed down and stopped at the small of my back with roughly two inches of butt cheek covered by his fingers. See– huge hands!

I was so shocked by what had just transpired and the fact I was pressed up against him, that it took me a second to realize that he’d spoken.

“Yup,” I croaked, and then cleared my throat hoping that he hadn’t figured out that I was nervous.

What woman wanted Noah Townsend to know that? None! In fact, most women wanted a guy to think we were confident in that moment. Maybe not every moment, but that moment? Uh, yeah.

The twitch at the corner of the smug bastard’s mouth proved that I’d failed epically, and he totally knew how nervous I was.

“What about now?”

His hand moved further down so that it now held my entire butt cheek, while the other one pulled me up toward his face – the face that was now making its descent toward me.

Just as we made contact, and I was begging my heart not to stop, to give me at least two minutes of kissing Noah before I croaked– and not vocally, but physically as in my heart just quit beating type of croaked– a voice boomed from beside us.

“Yo! Noah, man!”

Watching his beautiful eyes shut up close and seeing his long lashes fan out against his skin was nothing short of spectacular. Granted, I’d rather see that happen while we were kissing, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Especially when he followed it by resting his forehead gently against mine.

Tags: Mary B. Moore Providence Gold Romance
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