Page 85 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
“You are beautiful.”
Not ‘youlookbeautiful’ but ‘youare.’ That distinction fills me to the brim, and I’ve never been so glad to have my boss mad at me. Leaving work early just days before a big event was absolutely worth experiencing this moment.
“So, I’m not complaining.” Fischer tightens his hold to emphasize that point. “But we’re going to be late for dinner, and I want to make a good impression on your family.”
Laughing, I slide from his arms and hurry to put the sunflowers in a vase. “It’s just my siblings, by the way. My dad’s still in Diamond Springs.”
He lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Good to know. Is Chad back in town?”
“No.” Though, I kind of wish he was. I want to know his impression of Fischer now that we’re apparently more than colleagues. Does Chad know about whatever Fischer’s business partner did? I’m still not sure of the details, though I tried looking it up (and got brain zapped by too many business words I didn’t understand). Mostly I just found out that his old partner is extremely beautiful and mature. More the kind of woman I would have paired with a guy like Fischer if given the chance.
I’m glad I wasn’t given the chance because it means I can step in and offer myself.
“Goodness, sunflowers are amazing,” I say as I settle the bouquet inside my biggest vase and take a step back to admire them. “They’re so cheery and unapologetically themselves.”
A pair of arms wrap around me from behind, sending chills through me as Fischer moves in and tucks his chin on top of my head. When he said he was making all the moves, he clearly meant it. “I’ve been kicking myself since leaving Santa Fe this afternoon for not realizing sooner that you are a sunflower personified. Just like I’m sure your mom was.”
One:awwww. Two: how’s a girl supposed to concentrate when her senses are suddenly overloaded with the most incredible cologne? He smells like an ocean breeze had a baby with a forest right after rain. Three: “Santa Fe? Why were you there?”
His hand finds mine, fingers entwining until he slowly spins me around to face him. “Late,” he reminds me, at the same time moving in until his nose brushes mine.
Heavens to Betsy.He wasn’t kidding when he was talking about moves.
“I know how you feel about being late,” I whisper, closing my eyes.
He smiles. How do I know this? Because Ifeelit. His lips twist upward against mine in the closest thing to a kiss a person can get without actually kissing. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” he says against my lips.
Just kiss me already.
Then he pulls away, leaving me aching for him to come back. And he knows it. His smirk says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and this is just the beginning.
“Shall we?” he says, holding out his arm with a wink. His smile is still there, so natural and easy that it’s like he does it all the time. But no, I’m suddenly faced with an impossibly handsome man who seems to have perfected the art of the tease overnight. Or apparently during a drive from Santa Fe.
I want to slap him. Then kiss his face off. Who needs dinner when I’ve got a snack right here? “I hope you know what you’re getting into,” I say, way too breathless for someone who has been standing in the same place for the last two minutes.
When I take his arm, he tugs me close and heads for the door. “With you, or with your siblings?”
“Both.”
He waits until I lock my door, and then, in a move so smooth that I honestly don’t know how he did it, he has my back pressed against the door with his hands against the door on either side of my head. His dark eyes are black holes sucking me in. “I know exactly what I’m in for with you,” he says on a breath. His eyes slip down to my mouth, tracing my lips with careful study. “You are warmth. Beauty. Chaos. Happiness. Hope. Confidence. Distraction.” He leans in. “So. Much. Distraction.”
I make a sound that’s almost a whimper, and he grins before taking a step back and holding out his hand this time.
“Seriously?” I whine.
He nods. “I want to make a good impression.”
“Well, you’re not making a good one on me, that’s for sure,” I grumble but take his hand anyway.
He laughs, and the rare sound is almost enough to dispel my frustration.Almost. “I’m sorry,” he says as he leads the way down the stairs to his car. “I know I shouldn’t tease, but I can’t help it. I meant it when I said you’re distracting, and I know that once I start…” He pauses with one hand on the passenger door, his eyes fixed on mine. “I won’t want to stop.”
This time, I try to make the move myself, leaning up on my toes and grabbing the collar of his shirt to keep him from running. I make it within an inch of his mouth before he ducks down and throws me over his shoulder. I shriek, half laughing and half growling in exasperation as he pulls open the back door and stuffs me inside.
“You are a bad influence, Micah Taylor,” he says without a hint of growl, which honestly is sexier than I would have thought. Though I fight him, he somehow manages to get my seatbelt on through our shared laughter. “Will you stop?” He grabs both my wrists and fixes an ineffective glare on his face.
“How am I supposed to hold your hand when I’m all the way back here?” I demand.
His glare shifts into a smile. “Exactly. I’ve already demonstrated that I am dangerous behind the wheel when you are distracting me.”
