"Thank you," she said, then scooted over to make room for him before reaching for the coffee and taking a sip.
He shook his head. "I should go."
Her eyes widened behind the rim of the mug. She swallowed, then shook her head. "Wait. What?"
He moved a few steps toward the door, not wanting to lose his resolve.
Immediately, she was on her feet, the coffee on one of her stone coasters. "But--I thought. I mean, we--"
"What?" he said, then wanted to kick himself. He knew damn well what. He was just stalling because he didn't want to leave.
Her throat moved as she swallowed, and he saw courage flash in those fascinating eyes that now seemed greenish-gray. "It's just that I've never brought a guy home before."
Something like pride swelled in him, and he tamped it down. He really didn't need his damn ego hijacking the situation. "Technically, I brought you home."
She took another step toward him. "But aren't we--"
She cut herself off, her cheeks pink. "I just meant I wanted ... oh, hell," she said, then leaned forward and captured his mouth in a kiss so unexpected and so delicious that when she finally broke the kiss, he kept hold of her arm out of the irrational fear that if he let her go, she might vanish like some magical creature.
With his hand clutching her arm, he drew in a breath to steady himself, all of his energy concentrated on not yanking her toward him for another, deeper kiss. "Is that what you wanted?" he asked.
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. And though she never wavered, he knew that she was calling on all her courage to make this moment happen. "No," she said. "I want more."
He considered his options--considered his rules--and then he said the only truth he knew. "So do I."
"Nolan--"
He pressed a finger to her lips to silence her and made his choice. "Close your eyes, Shelby. Just close your eyes."
Chapter Six
Shelby breathed in deep, her eyes closed, her body humming. Her lips were parted, and a sweet anticipation filled her, heating her blood and making her hyperaware of everything around her. The slight breeze from her ceiling fan. The low rumble of late-night traffic. The soft scrape of the miniature palm tree against the screen of her window.
Most of all, she was aware of Nolan. She couldn't see him, but she sensed him. Right there, his eyes on her. And, soon, his lips. His hands. His everything.
She still didn't know what had gotten into her, but she wanted this. His touch, his kiss. All of it.
She felt the shift in the air and heard the soft pad of his shoes on her carpet. "That's good, Shelby. Now I want you do something for me." She nodded. Right then she was willing to do pretty much anything. "Touch your nose."
Her eyes flew open. "What?"
His mouth tilted sideways. "I told you, baby. I want you sober. Close your eyes and touch your nose."
"I'm totally sober," she protested. "Two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three, twenty-ni--hey!"
He had her by the wrist, and his expression could only be described as baffled. "What on earth are you doing?"
"Prime numbers all the way to a hundred." She tugged her wrist free and put her hands on her hips. "I bet you can't do them drunk."
"I can't even do them sober. Just touch your nose."
She frowned, but closed her eyes. The trouble was, she could recite prime numbers in her sleep. Drunk. Sober. Anesthetized. But what if she missed her nose? She didn't think she was drunk. Maybe back in the bar, but she felt fine now. But if she was wrong...
She opened her eyes, grabbed the mug, and took a long swallow, ignoring the way he laughed at her. She put the mug back, stood up, and took a long, deep breath.
Then she closed her eyes, thrust out her free hand, and before she could talk herself out of trying, brought the tip of her finger right smack against the end of her nose.
"There," she said triumphantly, opening her eyes and smiling at him. "Now kiss me, dammit."