Page 12 of Catching Mr. Right

I’ve not met anyone as serious as Cas. I’ve never had my pulse race like this, or my heart pound like this while I wait for him to speak. And then he touches his lips to mine and whispers the words, “If nothing else, you know this.”

My lips fall open to him. A slight breath gets caught between us as his tongue slips through the crack to dart against mine. Coffee and mint flavors his kiss as he slowly strokes and licks at my mouth, and I open more and more for him. My hand finds his shoulder and grips it, shakily holding on while he turns me inside out and upside down with a simple kiss.

I’ve kissed boys before, but not men. I’ve imagined kissing Sam, dreamed of it and fantasized about it. Rubbed myself to the finish line more often than not these past dozen months over the idea of that man’s mouth. But my experience has been with boys. Eager, slobbery boys.

This is something else. Clinging to Cas, I creep my hand up to the collar of the white button down chef’s coat—the one with two rows of black studs that looks so smart hugging his muscular torso, not that I’ve told him as much. What would he do if I told him I find him anything other than grumpy? Would that make him nicer? Easier to work with? I spear my fingers into the dark wisps of hair that curl at his nape, as he sweeps his tongue in hot wet circles that make me whimper.

He catches my face between both hands and takes my mouth, rough and needy, and I’m breathless and writhing desperately against him.

“Fuck, Mandy.” He groans low and raw when he stops and pulls back. Straightening, he wipes the wetness of our kiss from my swollen lips. “You are gorgeous. You would be attractive to a man of any age, and if that guy can’t see how great you are then he’s an idiot.”

My fingers follow his, touching my stinging lips. Cas thinks I’m gorgeous? Is he saying he wants me? Cas, who yells and swears and teaches me, just kissed me. And those words. Does he want to fuck me too? “You mean it?”

“I mean it.” He nods, his hooded eyes full of lust.

“Show me you do,” I say, catching his arm. “Take me home?”

Air whistles in his nose as he snatches a breath. There’s a spark of something sad in his gaze and the way he shakes his head that makes my heart sink. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry?” My voice is squeaky high, weirdly out of place in the moment. The pit of my stomach twists into a sour mess as my skin heats. I’ve made a fool of myself because he kissed me. Of course he didn’t mean it. No one ever means it. I sometimes wonder if I would even know what to do if anyone ever did want me that much. If anyone wanted me at all.

“I can’t.” He yanks at the front of his coat as he crosses the room. The studs pop loudly, and he drags it off and discards it on a hook beside the back door of the ranch house. Glancing back, he hesitates before he drags open the door. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He storms out, the door closing behind him. A few minutes later I hear him calling out to his horse. I shuffle off the edge of the counter and tug at the hem of my black cotton shorts while I glance around the now empty kitchen. His taste is still on my lips, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or how I’m going to reorientate myself.

Some things are clear though. I need to leave before he comes back. I need to talk to Summer. And I need a new plan.

***

“What’s with the emergency meeting, Mandy?” Summer drops into the seat across from me at Wine About It, and places her bag on her lap before she starts fumbling through it. “I got here as quick as I could. And I brought you a chocolate cupcake.” She puts the small, pink cardboard box down on the table in front of me. “You sounded like you needed it.”

“Thanks for the sugar.” I force a smile as I reach for the treat box and flip open the lid. “What wine do you think will go with this?”

“Moscato or a Dolce.” The server who had his back to us while he took care of the next table turns around to answer my question.

“Both,” I say.

“What happened?” Summer reaches for my hand as he walks away to retrieve the wine. “Is this about my brother?”

“No.” I shake my head and push a finger through the frosting piled on top of the cupcake. “I mean yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Sounds complicated.” Summer hums.

“It so is.” I suck the frosting off my finger and let its sweetness melt over my tongue. “Oh man, I have been fanging for this since…” Since Cas kissed me.SinceSam rejected me. “It’s not about your brother. I’m so over that.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what you said before you saw him again.” Summer glances over my shoulder as the server returns, and I twist to find him holding a bottle of Moscato. In his other hand, he holds a Dolce. She points to the white. “We’ll take the Moscato.”

“Leave them both,” I tell him as he opens the bottle and pours for us. It isn’t until he’s finished and walking away to serve another table that I continue the conversation with Summer. “Do you know how hard it is to give up on your dream man? You couldn’t give up on Dylan or Gabe.”

“That’s a bit different though,” Summer says, picking up her glass.

“Why? Because you were already in love?” I lean forward, plant my elbows on the table. “And you think this is different because we’re not. Yet.”

“Or maybe ever. I’d hate to see you hurt because you hope for something that isn’t going to happen. Sam’s not really great boyfriend material. He’s not good at it. I don’t think I can recall him ever being really emotionally involved with anyone. There’s been long term girlfriends, but not in the way that you want.”

“Maybe that’s because he hasn’t met the right woman. Look, I know you think my plans are crazy, but they’re not. Sam is special. I can tell. He’s worth the risk.”

“And how’s that?” Summer folds the corner of her napkin and sips her wine. “He’s a good man, but—”

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