She didn’t wrap around him the way she wanted, but she couldn’t stop herself from turning into the touch. “That would be really complicated and probably a bad idea.”
His eyes dilated as he looked down at her, and she knew he was thinking about all the delicious, glorious ways they could enjoy that bad idea. As erotic memories bombarded her brain, Tess’s resolve began to weaken.
Mitch stroked his thumb across her cheek, lighting little fires along her skin. “We’re both back in the real world. Tess Peyton’s world.”
That wasn’t nearly the splash of cold water it needed to be. “Yeah.”
“So I’m gonna go.” After another long moment, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Get some sleep, baby.”
Her fingers curled into her palms to keep from grabbing onto him as he stepped away. “Thanks for your help with my bags and the ride.”
“Anytime. Goodnight, Tess.”
“See you around, Mitch.”
Another flash of smile and he was gone, leaving her alone with her exhaustion and regrets.
With every step away from Tess, Mitch’s body tightened in resistance. All the way down the elevator and through the lobby, he wanted to go back to her, to wrap her in his arms and pretend the last weeks hadn’t happened. But they were back in the real world. And hers wasn’t the only one with complications. This was his hometown and he was under no illusion that if he stayed longer than a few minutes in her hotel room, it wouldn’t get back to his family. And her father.
“Mitch Campbell!”
The hail had him turning toward one of the benches that had been added to Main Street as part of the facelift Norah had orchestrated downtown. A pair of familiar blue-haired ladies beamed at him. Manners dictated he walk over and speak instead of bolting like a jackrabbit.
“Evening Miss Betty, Miss Delia. Where’s y’all’s third Musketeer?” It was rare to have a Casserole Patrol sighting without all three of them in attendance.
On a huff, Miss Delia Watson crossed her arms over the massive handbag in her lap. “She’s off for a date night with Chester. Again.”
“We’re feeling a mite neglected, to tell you the truth,” Miss Betty admitted.
Mitch tucked his tongue in cheek. “Y’all haven’t asked if Chester’s got a couple of buddies?”
“Sonny, that ain’t so easy at eighty as it was at your age,” Miss Delia announced. “Besides, they aren’t on the kind of date night you bring company to, if you take my meaning.”
He nearly choked. He could’ve gone the rest of his life without that kind of visual in his brain. “Fair enough. So what are you two ladies up to this fine evening?”
“We just finished dinner at Speakeasy and thought we’d take a little mosey around the green before heading home.” Miss Betty batted her lashes. “Be a dear and walk us to our car?”
Well knowing his job here, Mitch resigned himself to interacting a while longer. If there was one activity the members of the Casserole Patrol enjoyed more than ogling young men, it was flirting with them. With a gallant sweep, he offered his arms to them both. On a delighted little giggle, they rose and tucked their tiny hands at his elbows.
“Which way?”
Miss Delia patted his arm. “We’re parked around past the bakery.”
They began to stroll.
Miss Betty tipped her face up, her sharp eyes gleaming. “Who was that lovely young lady you escorted into the hotel there?”
Proof positive that he’d done the right thing in walking away tonight. “Trey’s daughter is in town for the week. She just got in from London this afternoon.”
“London! My, that’s exciting.”
“I expect it is. We had a big family dinner to welcome her to town.”
“Pretty girl,” Miss Delia observed.
“Yes ma’am, she is.” It was pointless to deny.
The silence stretched out, both of them obviously waiting for more. Mitch kept his mouth shut.