Page 55 of Lucky In Love

Clasping my hand in his, we order cookies and cocoa at the suggestion of the clerk. Leading me to a small, overstuffed couch in a corner, we sit together, his hand still holding mine and setting my heart racing. It seems as if he literally cannot keep his hands off me—not that I am complaining.

“How did you find this place?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I have my secrets. When I saw you, I wanted to take you here. I can’t explain it.”

“No need to explain everything, is there?” I say, as a warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with the cute, cozy ambiance of the cafe.

Over the sweet chocolate drinks and plate of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies, we talk with ease. We talk about everything from childhood dreams to the places we want to travel someday. It is like unwrapping a gift to another gift, and another, each layer giving another little surprise.

“You are natural at it. Is it what you thought you would be doing?”

“Dealing cards at a back-alley gaming room? No, not at all. I thought…well I had hoped to be a dancer. Cabaret or Broadway, like the Rockettes or something big and grand.”

“Cabaret is amazing,” Gideon stuns me. “We went for Rumi’s bachelor party that same night we came to Cutter’s. It is unlike anything else. You would…Gemma, you would be amazing up on stage.”

Flushing, I bow my head because I am not used to compliments. In the past, compliments came with strings, a return on pretty words. He reaches out, capturing my chin in his thumb and forefinger. Tipping my head up, he holds my gaze, telling me without words to accept his praise.

“Gemma, you are the most stunning thing I have ever seen. It’s not your pretty hair or your beautiful face, though. It’s this,” he taps the side of my head and then traces my mouth as it smiles. “This too. I had to see you again to see if you were even real. You are and…I am still not sure how it is possible.”

Grabbing a cookie, he offers it to me after splitting it in half for us to share. This is officially the best date of my life. Gideon is unlike anyone I have ever met. While he is charming and confident, there is such a softness, a kindness to him. Earlier he said he was taken by me—and now I am taken by him.

It is such an amazing date; I agree to a second without hesitation when he asks as he drives me home. He walks me to my door, holding my hand as we linger on my porch. We are not talking. We’ve done all the talking we want to tonight. But this perfect date is not over, and we both know it.

Since he made the first move, I go for it. Leaning close, I press my mouth to his. Heat, sparks, skies full of fireworks ignite. His hand cups the back of my head as we get lost in the powerful kiss. It is a kiss that should inspire songs. A kiss that proves that chemistry and connection exist.

Part of me wants to unlock the door and lead him to my bedroom. I wish I were bolder, that I could tell him I do not want the night to end. That I have never felt this fire that burns between us. I am burning up from where our mouths meet. Where his hands grip my waist, drawing me closer. His tongue licks at my lips and he eats my moan as I open my mouth for him.

Gideon pulls back first, eyes dark, chest heaving as he grins big. “All bets are off now, Gemma.”

“Should I be worried, gambling man?”

“Oh yes, you should. Because this hand between us just got started.”

Chapter Three

Griffin

Dating is always a risk, but worth the reward.

Smiling as I respond to a flirty text from Gemma, I try to focus. I have work to do, but I do not care. For the past week, all I have cared about is her. Seeing her, talking to her, being with her. It is all I can think about. All that has gotten me through the past week while I take on a new client.

Working for Pack Protective Agency often means putting my life on the line for a paycheck. Protecting politicians, pop stars, or even phenoms of the gridiron can be dangerous. Rivals, crazed fans, or criminals seeking a payoff from the elite pose a threat that I am paid to eliminate.

Taking on a bratty new popstar has been my life this past week. It is a quick gig, just while she is recording in the city. It is a great offense to her I do not know her music. Having Gemma to talk to, to commiserate with, to send those flirty texts or a quick call with has kept me sane.

“Seeing you tonight?” I text hopefully, though she agrees to another date last night.

After our perfect first date, it was days before we could see each other again. Our second was almost a disaster. I was late because of the Poptart, stepped in a huge puddle soaking me in filth, and Gemma was nursing a migraine. Thinking fast, I grabbed some takeout, fresh clothes, and made a stop at a pharmacy.

Coming to her place with Thai Pad, pajamas for both of us, and every single pill I could get for her head, I suggested a night in. Seeing her again had decided it for me. Whether she wanted me to snuggle with her on the couch, stuff our face with noodles, while I nursed her, it did not matter.

I am all in with Gemma.

Last night we cuddled on the couch, wearing matching pajamas, while I fed her, making both of us happy. Gemma kissed me first on our first date, and again last night on our second. I am in no rush, and I wanted to just be with her, take care of her, get that stunning smile. It was my little kitten who climbed on top of me, starting a make-out session that lasted the entire night.

“Yes. I want to take you somewhere. I will pick you up at six,” she responds, making my heart thump-thump against my ribs.

Knowing I will see her again puts me at ease. I am down bad for this woman. I get a stupid grin whenever messages pop up from her. I laugh at the memes or photos of her with Noodle she sends me. Or stop what I am doing to take a call or FaceTime with her just to get my fix.

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