God, he’s beautiful. I allow my gaze to roam freely over his luscious lips and broad shoulders. My senses go into overdrive as I imagine the well-built muscles underneath his shirt, every ridge and every line. That’s when I realize he’s watching me while I’m watching him. He raises a brow, letting out a whistle.
“You’re undressing me with your eyes, and we’re not even halfway through lunch.” His voice reverberates in a lower octave than before. It sounds unbelievably sexy.
“It’s the testosterone you’re oozing. It clouds my mind, does unspeakable things to my senses.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I nearly choke on them. Did I really say that out loud? I’m on a slippery slope. I can feel it in my bones… and other places.
His hand freezes in the motion of cutting a slice of the duck.
A girl must always land on her feet. If I pass this as a voluntary comment, it’ll be less embarrassing.
“You’re not the only one who can use honesty as a weapon,” I inform him.
“Clearly.”
“Why did you say you’re damaged goods at the wedding?”
“Losing someone you love leaves a mark.” Judging by his clipped tone, he doesn’t want me to insist on this topic. I will drop it, but I want to make a point before.
“That doesn’t make you damaged goods. I wouldn’t call you that.”
“What would you call me?”
“Alice nailed it,” I answer, deciding to lighten the mood. “I can’t think of a better description than tall, dark, and handsome.”
“I see. Are you flirting? ‘Cause last week, you admonished me for giving you hot looks.”
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“I think I am, although I haven’t flirted in a long time, so I can’t be sure. Can I test this out some more on you? Maybe I can get my game back.”
“You want to exercise your flirting muscles on me and plan to actually flirt with another man?” Eric sets his jaw, his gaze igniting me. “‘Cause then we’re having a problem.”
“Did you just go alpha on me?” I ask, fascinated.
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah.” I giggle, completely embarrassed. We focus on our food for the next few minutes, wolfing it down in no time, which leaves us with another forty minutes to kill until Julie and Alice return. My dirty mind supplies me with a wealth of options that would keep us busy. Kissing, ripping clothes off… Goddammit. What has gotten into me? I’ve never had such sexual thoughts about a man I wasn’t dating. It’s Eric’s fault entirely. Why does he have to be so tall, dark, and handsome?
I rack my brain for a safe topic.
“I’ve bought something for Julie,” I say, rummaging in my bag. “Before you start protesting, I bought it from the kids’ section at the store. It’s a tinted cranberry lip balm, packaged to look like a lipstick.”
“She was very specific about wanting a lipstick,” Eric says skeptically. He eyes the object in my hand with utmost distrust. I recognize that expression; I’ve seen it in Julie before.
“It’s all about how you sell it to her,” I explain.
“What do you mean?”
“You can tell her that it was in the section for adult women, and that even her favorite actress wears it.”
He frowns as if weighing the merits of my suggestion. “Why don’t you give it to her?”
“Trying to buy your way out?” I tease.
“No, but she’d believe you more, since she looks up to you. Also, she threw in my face that I don’t understand her because I’m not a woman.”
“Ah, I see. How about her nanny?”
“Julie doesn’t go to her for advice. Apparently, she’s too old. The woman is forty-five!”