Page 31 of Love & Rockets

The valet’s cheeks reddened as he took the ticket Jake thrust at him. He turned to the rack of tagged keys muttering, “No kidding.”

“Sorry,” Jake called after the kid as he rushed out the door.

He felt a small hand land on his arm and turned to find Darla smiling up at him. “What are you sorry for now?”

“Nothing,” Jake answered quickly.

“You say that a lot, you know.”

“What?”

“You’re sorry.” Her lashes lowered and she peered up at him from under the thick fringe. “Are you really?”

“Sometimes,” he answered truthfully. “Most of the time, I just don’t know what else to say.”

Her smile faltered the tiniest bit, letting him know she wasn’t exactly sure what to say or do next.

His honesty made her uncomfortable, and for that, he truly was—“Sorry.”

Darla wet her lips. “Well, uh, I prefer my apologies on the sincere side.”

“I’m not the least bit sorry I was looking down your dress.” The words came out before he could think too hard about them. When she looked up at him, those big brown eyes wide with shock but warming by the second, he decided to own them. “I know it’s rude to stare, but I can’t help it. You look so pretty in that dress.”

“Keep talking like that, and you might get to see me out of it.”

“Please, God.”

Something about his fervent prayer tickled her. Throwing her head back, she laughed out loud. And he’d be damned if her laugh wasn’t the best sound ever. Full and throaty, her laugh had a rasp that shot straight to a man’s crotch and grabbed him by the balls.

“I’m not kidding. I know I’m supposed to play it cool and act like I don’t care one way or another, but I do.” Staring straight into her eyes, he ran his thumb over the curve of her cheekbone, then came completely clean with her. “I want you, Darla.”

The door opened and a blast of warm, damp wind ruffled her dark curls, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not until she gave him the go/no-go.

“Sir? Your car?”

Frustration surged through him. Darla held his gaze but remained silent. The urge to breathe fire at the kid holding the door open wide burned with the ferocity of a solid rocket booster, but Darla slid her hand down his arm and into his before his temper could fully ignite. Dainty fingers closed around his. Her palm was soft and reassuringly damp. Without sparing the impatient valet a look, he pulled her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

Darla tipped her head to the side as if one thoughtless little gesture was a game-changer of some kind. At last, she raised her eyebrows and said, “Come on, we’re a go.”

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