Page 35 of Off Her Game
9
“Why’s the car stopping? This isn’t your workplace.” The car sat double-parked in front of a small bustling bakery.
The driver hopped out and opened her door.
“Breakfast. No one does bagels like this place.” Noah reached for his door handle.
“I thought you were in a hurry to get to your work event. Isn’t it a brunch, which means there’ll be food?”
“We’re going to have breakfast first at a place that doesn’t have big-brother cameras.” He flashed her an encouraging smile before he slid out.
She scooted out next to him. A quick phone check reassured no new texts. She shoved it into her pocket.
His hand closed around hers, large and reassuring. As they entered the bakery the smells of cinnamon and freshly baked bread pushed her complaining stomach into gurgly begging. Minutes later, they sat at a window table so small she had to smash herself next to him to avoid touching the lady beside her.
She could feel the press of the solid muscles of his arms. Incredible arms with a smattering of freckled tanned skin peeking beyond the point he’d rolled up his sleeves. Every inch where they pressed together sizzled. This was hell. Temptation hell. Her gaze snapped up to his.
He whispered on a rough rasp, “I’d probably give you anything you asked for if you…”
She nodded, unable to speak.
His eyelids drifted closed as he bit into his cream cheesed bagel. “The bagels here are the best. I think they put drugs in their cream cheese or something. I wish I could get down here more often.”
She sipped her chai and nibbled at a bagel.
“I like your hair down,” he said.
“Oh? Thanks. You said that yesterday.” She smoothed a hand over her hair. Her stomach somersaulted. If he continued to do things like feed her and give her compliments she might just fall for him.
His wide smile coaxed her to smile back.
He gave her a long look full of intensity. “Is Tori your real name or is it short for something else?”
“Really?” A laugh erupted. She’d expected him to delve into deeper waters.
He bit into his bagel and shot her a questioning gaze.
“Victoria,” she admitted.
“Emma and Victoria. Very…”
“Jane Austin-esque. My mom loved that time period.”
“I was going to say classic. Emma said she grew up in Virginia. Are your parents still living there?”
“Dad died not too long ago. Lung cancer. He wasn’t even a smoker. My parents divorced when I was fourteen. Mom moved away. I haven’t seen her in a while, but we’re in touch.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. I can’t imagine losing my dad, but it’s coming. He’s got early onset Alzheimer’s.” His eyes saddened.
“Your dad is lucky you can be there for him.” She squeezed his forearm, meant as a comfort but it reminded her of her desire to see all of his arms out of the shirt. “My father had his ups and downs. He had a mean streak.”
Noah’s gaze turned dark. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically. I wanted to move with Mom when she went west, but we were in high school. With my brother in his senior year they decided we should stay with my father until we graduated. We were pretty good at knowing how to handle Dad when he had one of his moods.” She leaned back from the table and stretched her shoulders. “Enough of that super light topic. Do you have any siblings other than Michael and Kaleb?”
“A younger sister. She left to attend Berkeley a few years ago. She was in town last weekend, but I didn’t get to see her for more than a quick lunch. Work’s been busy recently.”
“How do you have time for anything other than running the company?” she asked.
