“It’s not only Gracie I’m concerned about. I don’t want anything to happen to you because . . . well, just because.” Christ, how had he gone from wishing she’d disappear to wanting to see her smile? The woman was dangerous to his peace of mind.
For several seconds she didn’t speak. Finally she asked, “Um, so Gracie said you own your own construction company.”
He chuckled at the abrupt subject change. “Yep. It does a pretty good business these days actually.”
She stood and walked around the room. He noted the way she avoided his gaze. “Did you build this house?”
“This one and several others around here.” Catherine was an enigma. Blunt and sure of herself, but there was a touch of vulnerability there too, Dean thought.
She smoothed a palm down the granite countertop and hummed her approval. “You do excellent work.”
She was doing her best not to look at him, and Dean didn’t like it. “Thanks, but I’d rather you look at me.”
Her head swiveled around and their gazes locked. “Why?”
He got to his feet and crossed the room. Once he was within inches of her, Dean murmured, “Because I like it when you look at me with those pretty green eyes. Got a problem with that?”
“I-I think I need to get back to the hotel. I need to get ready for my shopping trip with Gracie. Besides, I’ve taken up plenty of your time already.” Her gaze quickly darted away again, as if suddenly finding his refrigerator fascinating.
“Do you plan on buying something pretty to wear to The Pit while out shopping today?”
His question had the desired effect. She turned her head and looked up at him. “Maybe,” she whispered. “I didn’t really bring anything along on this trip appropriate for a nightclub.”
Dean imagined her wearing a little black dress, one that showed off her figure to perfection. He thought of how sexy she’d be out on the dance floor, her hips moving to the beat of a slow, seductive song. His dick hardened beneath the fly of his jeans. Without thinking, he said, “And maybe I’ll see if Wade and Gracie have room for one more tonight.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You want to go out with us? Seriously?”
Dean shrugged, becoming preoccupied with a smear of chocolate icing on the corner of her mouth. “Is that a problem?” As dumb as it would be for him to get involved with Gracie’s sister, Dean was starting to realize he might not have a choice in the matter. She was a temptation, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to resist.
Catherine swallowed several times before replying, “No, it’s not a problem at all. I just didn’t figure you for the nightclub type.” She paused for a few seconds, then a frown replaced her confusion. “Or is this just another way for you to keep an eye on me because you don’t trust me around your brother and Gracie?”
The reminder that he didn’t trust her made the idea of getting involved the dumbest one he’d come up with in a long time. Still, she intrigued him, and it’d been a damn long time since a woman had managed that feat.
Not willing to delve into his reasons, Dean answered, “If I come tonight it’ll be because I want to be there.”
She laughed and shook her head. “You like to play your cards close to the chest, don’t you?”
Dean took hold of her arms and pulled her close, close enough to smell her pretty, floral scent, but not so close he lost all control. “You have a little chocolate on you,” Dean murmured as he tipped her chin up and kissed her. Catherine went rigid. He angled his head and let his tongue dart out to touch one corner of her mouth. When she relaxed against him, her arms moving to wrap around his neck, chocolate was all but forgotten. And so was his control. All Dean wanted to do was devour her. Inch by inch.
His tongue touched the side of her mouth and licked slowly back and forth. He tasted the chocolate, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted a deeper taste. He wanted the flavor of Catherine in his mouth. Something to tide him over until he could see her again. He tugged until their bodies were aligned. Her soft curves fit him perfectly, and Dean took a moment to relish the fact. Naked, they should definitely be naked. He ached to feel her silken skin against him.
When he slid his tongue over her bottom lip and gently nipped, Catherine gasped. Dean took the advantage and delved inside the dark recesses of her mouth. She moaned and dug her fingers into his hair. Her tongue shyly explored his, teasing him with the possibility of more. When his hands cupped and squeezed her buttocks, she pressed her lower body into his. Dean knew she’d feel the heavy weight of his cock. He felt the instant Catherine came back to reality. Her body stiffened and she dropped her hands away. Dean pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns.
“It’s gone,” he said by way of explanation, as his gaze went to her swollen lips.
“Huh?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
He smiled. “The chocolate.”
“Uh, right.” She licked her lips, then added, “A napkin would’ve worked too.”
He tsked. “You’d want me to waste perfectly good chocolate?”
She shook her head. “You’re determined to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, Dean pointed to the stove. “Are you going to be late?”
Catherine’s gaze shot to the green readout. “Crap.” She sprinted out of the room and grabbed her purse. As she took hold of the doorknob, she stopped and looked back at him. “Thanks for . . . lunch.”