“That wasn’t what we bargained for.” But he was asking her to spend time with him, and he was hot and she liked him. She wanted to get to know him better. And he still intended to claim his weekend.
“No, but neither was me showing up in town for spring renewal. So...bike ride?”
No. Yes. Maybe. Somehow the thought of riding on his motorcycle was both exciting and scary. Also, she’d probably have to touch him, like really touch him, not just fantasize about it.
“Lady. It’s a yes or no question.”
She turned to face him, chewing her bottom lip trying to find the answer.
He reached up and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip until it wasn’t between her teeth. A shiver went through her, they were so close she could see the flecks of green and gold in his blue eyes. He had thick eyelashes and despite his brusque manner, he had kind eyes.
She licked her lips, swallowing hard.
He groaned. “Oh, hell.”
Then he brought his mouth down on hers. He wasn’t touching her anywhere except grazing his fingers under her chin and his mouth against hers. But she felt him everywhere. The heat that she’d fantasized about when she’d watched him working at her kitchen counter spread through her. She trembled and opened her mouth to his as he deepened the kiss. His tongue brushed over hers. For a minute her body and mind were on the same page. She wanted to pull him closer. To deepen this kiss and she where it led next.
But memories started cascading through her and she was back on that sticky Georgia night. Everything inside her shut her down.
She pulled back and then tried to stand up and move away from him but knocked over her stool and she knew it was too much. Now she’d made things awkward. There was no going back from that.
Conrad sat back on his stool. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d known that, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. She stood across the kitchen, arms around her waist, watching him.
“I’m sorry I read the signals wrong. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He stayed where he was and did his best to make himself as small as he could. At six-five that wasn’t easy, but he just pulled his energy back as much as he could. A flash of memory came to him, of Rory on the night of the accident running to him and Dash, her hair a mess and her dress partially torn, it was the look in her eyes that cinched it for him.
“Did someone force himself on you?” he asked.
He wanted to comfort her and do whatever he could to help her. But he wasn’t always great at that. He’d had to take care of the guy who’d done it to Rory and that had led to them leaving Gilbert Manor the way they had.
Her eyes got wider for a second and she nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have leaned in like that. It’s been forever and that reaction—my pulling away like that—was way out of line.”
He pushed his chair back slowly as she kept talking; he wasn’t even listening now as he was pretty sure she didn’t know what she was saying. He just went over to her and leaned against the wall next to her. He was enraged that someone would have hurt her as he had been the night he’d seen Rory. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I do. It’s been years. I should be—”
“You are fine. Don’t apologize.”
She nodded. “It’s just I’m still not sure what you want from me, and I can’t kiss you—as much as I want to—if it’s just from you winning me like a prize. I know I said you could have a weekend of my time...but not like this. Intimacy should be more than a lost bet.”
Damn. He liked her. “I agree. I got carried away. From the moment I met you, your mouth has been driving me crazy. For our weekend I was never demanding anything sexual from you. I kind of said romantic to make you back down.”
“I never back down,” she said.
“I know, that’s one of the things I like about you,” he admitted.
“Just one?”
“I enjoyed kissing you,” he said.
“I liked it too,” she admitted with a shy smile. But she knew he wasn’t sure what to say next.
“What were you planning for our weekend?” she asked, at last.
“Some free labor. Make you work in my test kitchen as my sous-chef, chopping onions or washing dishes.”
“Wow, this is awkward—I don’t do manual labor.”