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I put my fork down. “You’re not going to eat that.”

Her guilty expression told me she just might. “I had a hamburger and fries for lunch,” she whispered. “Melissa and I sneaked out.”

Picking up my knife, I cut another thick portion of steak and slipped it onto her platter of rabbit food. “Have some of this. They’ll never know.”

“You’re a bad influence.” She bit her bottom lip before forking the steak and putting it in her mouth. Then she leaned back and groaned. “That’s amazing!”

“I might enjoy watching you eat my steak more than having it myself.”

“I’ll help you decide.” She scooted closer, and I was ready to pass my plate to her.

“We’ll split it,” I said.

Her soft blonde hair spilled around her shoulders, which were bare

in the strapless dress she wore, and I thought of a half-dozen other ways to get that groan from her again. Fun ways.

The rest of dinner was spent discussing her work as a middle school English teacher, a profession I still couldn’t envision her doing.

“Sixth graders are the best,” she said, her eyes drifting thoughtfully. “Seventh is the most challenging.”

“More than eighth?”

“Yes. Eighth graders are getting ready for high school, they’re nervous and sentimental… Seventh is like the middle-child years. Lots of attention-grabbing.”

We finished my steak in half the time, and I sat back, enjoying the wine and lightly touching the skin on her upper arm as my hand rested on the back of her chair. She leaned toward my touch, and I was ready to ditch the bright, white dining room for something more intimate.

“Let’s take a walk,” I said, signing the bill.

“Oh, you didn’t have to pay for dinner!” She reached for me, but I caught her hand, lacing our fingers. “I’m not letting you pay for that plate of… whatever it was.”

“Raw foods.” She picked up a peppermint as we stood.

Our hands parted as she led the way through the restaurant, and all I could think of was touching her again. I hadn’t been able to stop finding ways to touch her the entire meal, but she didn’t seem to mind. Actually, I’d noticed her touching me the few times my hand left her.

When we were finally outside the restaurant in the wide hall leading to the conference center, she stepped toward me, catching the crook of my arm. I pulled her close and led us out the side door into the warm night. A wide path ran around the perimeter of the golf course near the hotel, and I knew from my first night here it led past a series of fire pits down to one of the smaller pools.

We stopped at a first that was unoccupied and watched the flames a moment. Like all the others, chairs and a loveseat were situated around it, and Elaine slid her hand down to mine, gently pulling me to take a seat.

The small orange coals were warm, and she turned so that her back was against my chest on the loveseat. My arm was over her shoulders, and I lifted a golden lock of her hair, sliding it back and forth.

“So what took you from military man to private eye?” She asked, watching the glow.

“I used to know the answer to that question,” I said. “Now I think I’m changing my mind.”

Her brow lined. “Why?”

“In the past it was about the excitement, the adventure. Then it became more about nailing bad guys and bringing them to justice.”

She reached up and threaded her fingers in mine. “And now?”

I exhaled, thinking about how the past year had been, how fragmented I’d felt. “Now I haven’t quite decided.” I didn’t want to talk about my shitty year. I wanted to know everything about her. “So did you always want to teach?”

I felt her laugh as she shook her head. “Actually, no. The truth is, I was going through a rebellious phase.”

My brow lined. “What does that mean?”

“My dad wanted me to be a lawyer, just like him and my brothers, and everyone else in my family.” Her tone changed, and for the first time, she was not so cheerful. “It was my way of taking control over my life.”


Tags: Tia Louise One to Hold Erotic