Page 32 of Dining for Love

I hand Matty some cotton candy. “Of course you are,” I soothe. “No one’s a better shot-giver than you, boo.”

At the end of the night, we walk to our cars. As I head to Goldie’s, she shakes her head. “Why don’t you ride with Reid?”

Reid tugs me back, a sexy grin on his face. “Yeah. Ride home with me, Willa.” His voice is low and darkly promising.

I shiver, unwilling to investigate whether it’s the night air or Reid that has me covered in goosebumps. One look at Goldie’s expression, then at Reid’s, has me once again going against my own best interests. “Okay.”

We say our goodbyes, and Reid opens the truck door to help me in. The cab smells like him, hints of cedar and honey comforting me as he rounds the front and gets in, smiling at me and sending the butterflies into a tizzy once more.

“You have got to stop doing that,” I admonish.

“Doing what?” He starts the engine.

“Smiling.”

He gives a full-on belly laugh, free and unencumbered, and it’s like listening to angels singing. It makes me giddy.

We’re quiet on the drive home, mainly because I can’t think of anything to say. Even giving him crap about Midnight isn’t something I want to do. I study his profile as he drives. His hair, a little longer than I suspect he prefers it, is pushed away from his face in dark waves, and his nose is strong and straight. His skin is naturally tan, and his cheekbones are high, all the better to show off those dimples when he smiles. His lips are full, and they part now in a sensual grin as he turns to me. “You’re staring, Willa.”

My blood heats, and at this point, I’m fairly certain that my entire body is blushing.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he continues, not waiting on me to answer him, “I stare at you every chance I get, too.”

I have no idea what to say to that, but now my blood is boiling.

I try to tamp it down—he’s a flirt, and he’s only here for three months—but it’s hard. Because when was the last time a guy gave me this kind of attention?

Never. The answer is never.

He pulls into his driveway and kills the engine, then hops out and is opening my door before I can get it myself. He holds his hand out, and even though I’m perfectly capable of getting down from his ridiculously high truck, I take it. It’s strong and warm, gentle, and calloused. I meet his eyes when my feet hit the ground. “Thank you for tonight.”

He studies me. “Anytime.” Weaving our fingers together once again, he leads me not to his house like I was kind of hoping, but down Agatha’s driveway and around to my cottage. His jaw ticks as he surveys the property. “You should have your porch light on.”

I grin. “It’s safe back here, Officer MacKinnon.”

“Come here.” Reid’s voice is as dark as the night, silky and full of promise.

Despite everything, I go to him willingly, letting him gather me into his arms and pull me tight. This time, when he leansdown to kiss me, I’m ready for it. And I refuse to be the one to break it, because if I’m being honest with myself, I’d like to continue the kissing inside my house. Perhaps with fewer clothes.

Actually, that would definitely be my preference. His house, my house, I don’t care: just fewer clothes, please.

His hands roam my body, sending streaks of pleasure through me as they map my rear, hips, waist, and stomach. He stops when his palms are right below my breasts, and his thumbs trace the underside of them through my bra.

I hitch in a breath and arch my back in silent invitation.Yes, please.

But he doesn’t go farther. Instead, he eases up on the kiss, and even though I don’t want to, I follow his lead, relinquishing the hold I have on him.

“You don’t have to stop, you know,” I breathe, giving voice to my desire.

He kisses my cheek. “Yeah, Willa, I do.”

“Really, you don’t.”

He kisses my other cheek, then steps back. “Really, I do. Goodnight, Willa Dean Dash.”

I roll my eyes even as my heart skips a beat. “Just Willa.”

He smirks, popping a dimple. “Goodnight, Just Willa.”

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