“So how do we do this?” I asked. “Exchange phone numbers like normal people and go from there?”SixGage“Fuck normal. Think more along the lines of extraordinary since that’s what you deserve.”
Laughter spilled from her plush lips, but I couldn’t see them because she was hiding behind her coffee. “Was that a line from one of your movies? Because it was so . . . cheesy.”
I stepped forward and tugged the mug from her fingers, setting it down on the counter before placing my hands on her shoulders. Staring into her startled blue eyes, I opened myself up in a way I’d never been tempted to before with any other woman. “Cheesy, but true. What’s also true is that going the normal route would most likely mean getting your phone number and walking away today.”
She cocked her head to the side as she studied me. A silky dark lock of hair slid along the top of my left hand, and I swiveled my wrist to wrap it around my finger. “Would that be so horrible?”
I wasn’t the world’s most patient man, and with Morgan, I found myself being even less so. I had a feeling I was going to be greedy when it came to spending time with her, which would be interesting considering who we were and the kind of coverage we’d get if it became known that we were dating. “Not horrible. But a disappointment? Yeah.” I slid my right hand along her shoulder and up her neck to cup her cheek. “I’d prefer to spend time with you now, instead of waiting for who knows how long before seeing you again.”
“Well, then,” she sighed, her eyes turning a little hazy. “I guess we can let the wooing commence since we’re both already here and all.”
After swiping my thumb across her cheek, I forced myself to step away before I did something to fuck things up like kiss her. I was desperate for a taste of her, but it would send the wrong message when I needed to prove to her that I really could do the work when it came to dating her. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Nope.” She snagged her mug and took a quick sip from it. “I got a late start to my morning. So unless coffee counts—and it should since I consider it a vital food group—I haven’t eaten anything today.”
She looked amazing, but for all I knew, she felt like shit after a late night celebrating her win. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” she confirmed with a smile.
“What are some of your favorite foods?”
“Sushi, pasta, pizza, tacos,” she rattled off, waving her free hand up and down her body. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a salad kind of girl—no matter how many times my trainer tells me I should be.”
“Remind me to give you the contact information for mine since he knows better than to pull bullshit like that,” I growled.
There was no way in hell I wanted her to spend any time with someone who gave her a hard time about her weight. “Your curves are fucking gorgeous. They haven’t kept you from landing roles or from earning yourself a Daytime Emmy a couple of years ago and a Golden Globe last night.”
Her cheeks filled with a pink tinge. “Has the infamous Gage Ryan been following my career?”
“If I wasn’t before, I sure will be now.” I planned to be up close and personal about it, too.
“Aww, that’s sweet. Should I start calling you stalker-boy?” she teased.
“I’m forty-two years old, beautiful. There isn’t anything boy-like about me.”
Her gaze dropped down to where my hard-as-steel cock pressed against my zipper, and then jerked it back up to my face. The pink in her cheeks deepened to red, and it only made her more attractive to me since most of the women I knew had long since lost the ability to blush. “No, there sure isn’t,” Morgan agreed.
I chuckled softly, appreciating how she was a much-needed breath of fresh air.
Fresh air! I had the perfect idea for our first date. “Let me take you out to lunch. A picnic somewhere private for just the two of us.”
“It sounds perfect, but it’s going to be difficult to find a private place for us to go.” She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. “Somewhere that had better not be your house.”
I held my hands up and gave her an innocent look. “I promise to wait until at least our third date for that.”
“And you know that last night doesn’t count as a date, right?” she asked, wagging her finger at me. I nipped at the tip, and she yelped in surprise.
“Yes, Morgan. I’m aware that last night wasn’t a date because if it had been, then I would have actually gotten to spend time with you instead of chasing after you from party to party.”