“I’d like to see your work.”
“Why, certainly. I would love to show you my work,” she almost purred, giving him a heavy-lidded look over her coffee cup. “And maybe I’ll show you my paintings sometime, too.”
Damn it, she’d done it again. Caught him off guard with a sexy laugh, a sizzling look and a blatant innuendo. Someday soon he just might surprise her and call her bluff when she got in one of these teasing moods. He wondered if she would still laugh at him then.
The niggling thought that she just might made him scowl.
Her laughter rippled through him again. “Poor Trevvie. Have I embarrassed you again?”
He leveled a look at her across the table. “You may call me Trevor, or Trev, if you insist. But I’ll be damned if I answer to ‘Trevvie.”’
“I’ll try not to forget that,” she promised, her eyes dancing.
“See that you don’t.”
To his relief, she dropped the flirting and started talking about a controversial new ordinance the Honoria city council was considering. It didn’t particularly surprise him that she could switch that quickly from foolishness to small-town politics. Trevor had never questioned Jamie’s intelligence. And if there was one thing he had learned to expect from her, it was the unexpected.
TREVOR DEBATED with himself for less than a minute when Jamie invited him in at her door. His mother was keeping the kids overnight— “just so you won’t have to disturb them if you come in late,” she had assured him—so there wasn’t any need for him to rush home. It couldn’t hurt to have just one last cup of coffee, he thought.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Jamie said, waving a hand toward the couch as she headed for the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She glanced over her shoulder, a by-now-familiar gleam in her eyes. “Feel free to loosen your tie, if you like.”
He should probably be pleased that he kept her amused, he thought in resignation, taking off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. He supposed that was better than boring her.
Jamie noticed his missing jacket and loosened tie as she carried the two steaming mugs of coffee into the room. She nodded approval.
“Better?” he asked wryly.
Setting the mugs on the coffee table, she straightened and eyed him consideringly. “There’s just one more thing,” she murmured, taking a step toward the end of the couch where he sat.
He watched her warily. “And that is…?”
“This.” Before he’d guessed her intentions, she pounced on him, rumpling his formerly tidy dark blond hair with both hands. He could feel it tousled on his forehead when she had finished. “There,” she said in satisfaction. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”
She started to back away, but Trevor caught her wrist and gave a sharp tug, tumbling her onto his lap. “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages,” he muttered, then covered her mouth with his.
The last time he had kissed Jamie Flaherty, she had been a high-spirited, fifteen-year-old girl just discovering her feminine attributes. He’d been a serious, studious eighteen-year-old with little experience at that sort of thing. Kissing her then had sent his raging hormones skyrocketing, had made his heart slam against his chest and his pulse roar in his ears.
Almost fifteen years later, she still had the same effect on him.
Her lips were full. Soft. Warm. Eager. Her slender body fit into his arms as easily as if she’d been custom-designed to his specifications. There was no hesitation when she returned the kiss, no coy holding back. No sign of surprise at his actions.
Perhaps he’d meant to shake her composure, the way she’d been unnerving him all evening. But once again, he was the one caught off guard, thoroughly bemused and mesmerized by her.
Fifteen decades of experience could not have prepared him for Jamie Flaherty.
When the long kiss ended, she had one hand resting on his cheek, the other arm around his neck. Her smile looked a bit smug, but he had the satisfaction of seeing a glazed expression in her eyes—at least until she lowered her lids and hid her reaction from him.
It was nice to think that maybe, just once, he had managed to rattle her a little.
“Why, Trev,” she said, her voice a shade huskier than usual. “Was that an impulsive action?”
“I’ve been known to indulge in them occasionally.”
She slid her fingertips across his mouth. “You should do so more often.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He pulled her toward him again.