Page 44 of When the Fake Snow Falls

He shakes his head, bewildered. “Why? I’ll pay you. I’m not looking for a handout. Let me schedule an appointment, and I’ll come to the salon like your other clients.”

I take a sip of my margarita to buy time and hope the tequila will hit me in a matter of seconds. He isn’t my client. He’s a man I’m fake dating for a Christmas party, who I am so undeniably attracted to it scares me. He’s someone I won’t be able to stay friends with if these feelings don’t go away, so the last thing I need is for him to come in every six weeks for a haircut. “I think your hair looks great the way it is, but if you want it cut, go get it cut. It just won’t be me who does it.”

He gives me a teasing smile, beautifully ignorant of how serious I am. “I guess I’ll wait then.”

I roll my eyes and take another sip. “Aren’t we here to practice something?”

He keeps his eyes on me a beat too long, his expression unchanging. “You’re right.” Moving his chair a few inches closer to mine, he says, “This is about how close we’ll be sitting at the party. It will be a large round table with a few other people from my department. We’ll have to sit through some end of the year ceremony bullshit, but there will be plenty of Chardonnay to get you through it.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Good.” He nods. “And I probably won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

I force out a laugh. “Right. Because these people know you well, and that’s what history has proven.” I give him a sideways glance.

He holds my gaze. “Something like that.”

I go to look anywhere else, my heart pounding, but he leans in closer, and his magnetic force demands my full attention.

His eyes are sincere when he says, “No one would believe I’d be able to keep my hands off you because no one would believeanyman could keep his hands off you. I’ve been struggling with it all night, and we’re not even really dating.” He shakes his head. “If you were mine, there’s no way we’d be sitting here like this.”

I swallow hard, and when I go to speak, my voice comes out quieter than I intended. “What would we be doing?”

Chase’s warm, brown eyes search mine, but I have no idea what he’s looking for. “Well,” he finally says as he moves his hand to the inside of my knee. “I probably would have had my hand here most of the night.” His fingers drag over my skin in slow, teasing circles.

My leg falls open a little wider on instinct, and Chase’s fingers slowly circle higher. My breathing shallows, and I clasp my hands in front of my mouth with my elbows on the table and force a steadying breath. This dress won’t hide the way he affects me. My chest and back are too exposed, my shallow breaths too evident.

His touch lights a fire through me, and every time his fingers circle higher, the heavy heat between my legs intensifies. When he reaches the middle of my thigh, I’ve lost all hope of controlling my breathing. My eyes dart around the busy restaurant, and Chase says, “No one’s watching.”

He’s right, of course. Everyone is too busy with their own plans to care about the couple sitting close in the corner. I tilt my head to look at him. “What else?”

His mouth quirks, and he pulls his hand away from my leg. Moving it to the back of my neck, his feather-light touch caresses the nape, sending tingles down my spine. He guides me closer to him, bringing his lips to my ear. “I’d whisper all my filthy thoughts in your ear.”

My breath catches in my throat, and when he massages his thumb up the side of my neck, I naturally tilt my head to give him more access. Without so much as a warning, he presses his lips to the spot just below my ear in one slow, torturous kiss. Before I can stop it, an audible sigh leaves my lips, and I feel him smile against my skin. “And you definitely would have made that sound more than once tonight.”

He slowly pulls away, and I blink like being roused from adream. Shaking my head, I hope my bemused smile hides how turned on I am. “You’re despicable.”

He grins. “You don’t know the half of it.”

I believe him. The way he just made me feel, in a matter of seconds, in the back of a taco shop, is probably a fraction of what he could do if given the . . . opportunity. There’s no way a man like him doesn’t know how to make a woman feel good. Miles’s advice to sleep with Chase echoes in the back of my mind, and I take a larger sip of my margarita, swallowing down my temptation with it.

“And are you?”

My eyes dart to meet his. “Am I what?”

“Despicable?” He gives me a roguish smile. “Because tonight you’ve been acting like nothing short of a saint.”

Setting down my drink, I shift to face him and give him a leveling look. “Chase.”

“Candace.”

Slowly, I lean toward him. “Are you worried I won’t deliver?” Before I can even think about what I’m doing, my hand is on his chest, my fingers trailing over every muscle beneath his shirt. We’re close enough to kiss like this, and my tongue instinctively wets my bottom lip at the thought. Chase’s eyes track the movement and stay locked on my lips. My hand continues to trail until I reach the top of his belt. My fingers lightly brush his crotch as I pull my hand away.

He isn’t smirking anymore. He isn’t even smiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’sflustered. With a shake of his head, he swallows. “I wouldn’t doubt you for a second.”

I give him a side-long glance, desperate to touch him more but fighting it. “Good.” Smiling at him, I add, “I promise to pull out all the stops for your party.” Because if I do much more right now, I won’t be able to stop.

Regaining some of his usual confidence, he eyes me up and down without shame, challenge brewing. “I look forward to it.”

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