“Well, it did seem a little awkward to be doing in the
church fellowship hall.” She could tell Tucker had to work to keep his tone light. But there was nothing light about the look in his eyes or the feel of his hands.
She wanted those hands to touch her. Wanted to feel him moving over her, in her. And so, wanting, accepted her decision was already made. She stroked her hand up his arm and reached to skim a finger down his cheek. “Fair enough. I’d just as soon there be no prospective audience for this myself.”
His body gave a perfectly satisfactory response to that remark. She closed that whisper of distance between their mouths. The hands that had teased slid down over her hips, pulling her closer against the erection straining his pants. With a groan of approval, she slid her leg up the outside of his, fitting him more perfectly against her.
Tucker shuddered, breaking the kiss to rest his brow against hers. “Have dinner with me,” he gasped.
Corinne blinked, her hand resting against the thundering pulse in his throat. “What?”
“Have dinner with me.”
Her gaze slid over to the box on the counter. As they’d planned, he grabbed a pizza from Speakeasy on his way home, intending to heat it up for them later.
“No, not take out. Dinner. Real food somebody else cooks and serves us. Out. A real date.”
“Why?”
“Because I have no business thinking the thoughts I’m thinking right now if we haven’t even had our first date. And if we stay here and keep rehearsing, I’ll try to talk you into bed, and we’re not there yet.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take more than a dozen steps. Only four to the sofa.” She’d been calculating for the last few minutes.
Tucker looked heavenward, as if that might give him strength. “Part of me really wants to take you up on that right now.”
“I noticed.” She rotated her hips, still pressed against his and he groaned.
“But I’m not going to rush this. I’m not going to rush you into something you might regret.” She sensed his struggle, but he stepped away from her. “So we’re going to go to dinner and have a proper date. Then I’m going to drop you home with a goodnight kiss that’ll ensure you’ll dream of me, and I’ll come back here and take the coldest shower known to man.”
This wasn’t what she wanted—at all. But even so, he was so earnest, it was hard not to be charmed. “You are charmingly old fashioned, Tucker.”
“And believe me, it’s killing me.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “How long will it take you to go home and get ready?”
“What? Now?” He was really serious about this?
“Now. Tonight.”
She blinked, considered. “If it were only me, thirty minutes. Kurt will still be up, so probably closer to an hour. But I can meet you—”
“I’m picking you up.”
She grimaced imagining the interrogation Marianne would put him through. “My mother—”
“I can handle your mother. I’m picking you up at home. Let’s make it an hour.”
“What about rehearsal?”
“Later. I think it’ll be better later.” He said it like a prayer, as if maybe later he’d have himself under better control. “Let’s do this right.”
Right?
Now that he’d woken her long dormant girlie parts, they had an entirely different idea of what would be right at the moment. She considered saying it outright. He’d fought for her when she would’ve walked away. He made her feel worthy, and that wasn’t something she had a lot of experience with. That was all she’d needed to know. But this part of the process was important to him. If he needed to feel like they’d checked off steps like some kind of items on a list—or if he thought she needed it—who was she to argue?
“Okay.” Amused, she scooped up her purse and strode to the door.
“And Corinne?”
She looked over her shoulder.