Page 12 of Dining for Love

Then he looks up at me, his dimples popping. “Hi.”

My knees weaken further, and as I begin to lose my fight with gravity, all I can think is,well, at least he smiled at me.Darkness begins to overtake me as Reid breaks into a run, his arms tightening around me to pull me upright just before I fall.

I force my eyes open as my heart rate kicks into high gear. My whole body shakes, and I’m not sure I can stand. “Mortified beyond recovery” doesn’t really begin to describe what I’m feeling. I know one thing and one thing only: I would like to die now.

I am not just blushing the color of a tomato. I have turned into one. An overripe, gooey, just-this-side-of-becoming-sauce tomato.

“Are you okay?” The concern seeping through his voice isn’t helping matters whatsoever. But then his face comes into focus, and his eyes are so pretty and green that I think maybe, perhaps, I can endure the burden of his presence just a little longer.

After I procure some kind of concoction that ensures he never, ever, ever, so help meever, remembers this moment.

Like, ever.

“Willa?” he prompts again softly. You know what’s not soft? His arms. The ones I’m currently wrapped inside. His muscles might have muscles.

“I’m…fine,” I rasp. I’m definitely wrinkling his shirt.

Reid leads me to Agatha’s porch steps and helps me sit on one of the wooden stairs, then takes my wrist in his hand to check my pulse.

I use the opportunity to study him. His hair, thick and wavy, is mussed to perfection, waving back from his brow as though an artist had spent hours styling it. His dark lashes are a thing of beauty. And have we talked about how freaking good he smells? Like honey in the forest. The combination shouldn’t work, but it does. My lord, does it ever.

He looks at me with concern. “Your heartbeat is racing.”

Yeah, no shit. It’s because you’re hot as hell, and I can’t handle it.

“When was the last time you ate?”

I consider. Oh. My voice is small as I mutter, “This morning.” That explains a lot.

I’m an idiot.

His face darkens. “We need to get some food in you.”

Then he stands up. Before I can do the same, the man scoops me into his arms. Just,boop! Scoops me up, like I’m nothing.

Aaand holy cow, his muscles are legitimately bulging. My arms tighten around his on instinct, and I promise the warmth in my belly has nothing to do with my proximity to him.

Right?

Right.

He walks me back to his place, unlocking the door and walking us into the kitchen, still carrying me, as though I weigh no more than a sack of potatoes.

Which, honestly, is probably how sexy I am right now. Again:I should have at least shaved. I did not. I refuse to look and see just how bad it is, but I’m absolutely positive he’s getting some good exfoliation on the part of his arms that are touching my legs.

He deposits me onto a chair before I have a chance to get a good look at my surroundings.

“Coke?” comes his gruff voice.

I turn. He’s got the refrigerator door open and is looking back at me, worry still plastered all over him.

“Do you have any tea?”

An amused smile drifts across his lips. “Willa. Do I look like the kind of guy who has iced tea in his fridge?”

No, you look like the kind of guy who might tie me up and spank me for misbehaving.I shake my head to get rid of the thought. “Coke is fine.”

He pulls a can out and pops the tab with a hiss and a pop, then sets it on the tiny table in front of me. “You like Little Debbie?”

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